Unequivalent Exchange
by tuntuntunaa
Summary: There was a rumour of a steel grey eyed Ishvalan who was able to perform unprecedented miracles, some of which alchemists couldn't even hope to replicate.
1. Chapter 1

**Another plot-bunny. I swear new ideas keep popping out and I can't stop it.**

 **This was written sometime in June.**

 **Disclaimer : I do not own Fate/Stay Night or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood.**

* * *

 **Unequivalent Exchange**

Fate/Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works x Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Un-betaed

* * *

There was a rumour of a steel grey eyed Ishvalan who was able to perform unprecedented miracles, some of which alchemists couldn't even hope to replicate.

.

.

.

"Yesterday, around 9:30PM, many station employees witnessed a man with a large scar on his face at the Central City Station."

"The Station?" Maes Hughes asked, surprised. He met Alex Armstrong's eyes, whose concern and trepidation were clearly shown in his face.

"Did he run away?"

No use asking that question, really. The man with a scarred face, dubbed "Scar", had just recently found a new hobby of dropping dead State Alchemists everywhere he went. Following his trail of dead bodies as well as his easily-noticeable scar should have been easy enough to track him down, yet so far the man had proven to be a slippery one.

Ross, his Second Lieutenant and the one who reported this bad news to him, nodded her head.

Maes let out a bone weary sigh. A killer who only went after State Alchemists and managed to best them was truly a worrying matter. Currently, Scar was Amestris' most wanted fugitive, a traitor who had to be brought to justice as soon as possible. According to the autopsies, he had the ability to use alchemy himself, though he seemed to use only the 'deconstruction' aspect. Which was, apparently, enough to kill many veteran alchemists.

Maes himself wasn't an alchemist - he wasn't a bookworm enough to study Alchemy, nor was he a genius like the Elric brothers - so he was quite safe as compared to his alchemist friends. But he was worried about Roy, Armstrong and the Elrics, and so when he was appointed to be in charge of Scar's case Maes was determined to catch him, before the bastard could get his hands on them.

He was about to order Ross to contact the personnel stationed in the Central City Station when he realised that she hadn't finished her report yet.

Ross chewed on her bottom lip, seemingly excited for some reason.

"Now's a good news, I hope?" Maes asked.

"Yes, sir," she replied, flipping a page of her report as she continued, "There were also reports of an Ishvalan with grey eyes at the Central City Station, boarding for the train to East City at 10PM."

Maes leaned forward. So was Alex, because this news was equally as important as Scar's appearance, though on a much more positive note.

"The Ishvalan Saint?"

Ross nodded, "I believe so, sir."

"Call Colonel Mustang," Maes said, his eyes glinting in anticipation. "At least, this one won't bore him to death."

* * *

The sky was weeping when Scar arrived.

Thunder struck outside, its resulting flash dramatically announcing his arrival to the Tucker family. His wet attire didn't bother him much as he approached the Sewing-Life Alchemist, nor was the blood dripping from his right hand.

"You're Shou Tucker, aren't you?" Scar asked grimly, his voice tinged with the anger and loath at the man, as well as at what he represented.

"W-who are you?" the alchemist stammered, truly scared for his life for the first time. "Your attire...You're not from the military! H-how did you get in? There should have been military policemen stationed out front!"

Throughout his stuttering, Scar continued to advance upon him. Tucker was clearly a researcher-type alchemist because he couldn't even stand straight when faced with an enemy. Nonetheless, as Scar caught sight of the talking-chimera sitting nearby, Shou Tucker was still an alchemist.

An evil man.

"Alchemists, who go against God's path…"

Despicable. Rotten. Sinful, the lot of them.

"...shall _perish_!"

Roughly grabbing the alchemist's face, Scar activated the array on his right arm. Blue lightning bolts appeared throughout Tucker's body, and as the alchemist screamed, his blood vessels burst and his organs destroyed. Deconstructed.

The alchemist's body fell limp, collapsing on the ground in a shower of blood.

Scar sighed in part-contentment, part-frustration.

An eye for an eye. An alchemist killed to avenge thousands of Ishvalan victims.

 _Not enough_.

Turning away from the cooling corpse, Scar landed his eyes on the poor chimera. It came closer, bending its head down and sniffing at the river of blood that led to the dead body.

Tears welled in its eyes.

"Da...ddy," it whined. "Da...ddy. Da...ddy. Da...ddy…"

How... _wrong_.

"This is miserable," Scar said to the...animal in front of him. "Now that you're in a state like that, there's no way to return you to normal."

Pitying the animal that was once a human - a _daughter_ \- and a victim to the alchemists, he laid his right hand on its head.

"At the very least, leave this world in peace - "

Thunder flashed, and suddenly a shadow appeared from outside the window.

Surprised, Scar promptly leaped away from the shattering window. He readied his right arm, frowning at the figure who had rudely interrupted his activity.

His eyes widened upon recognising the white hair and dark complexion of the man crouching in front of the window.

Steel grey eyes met red behind the sunglasses.

"You're...the Ishvalan Saint."

The Saint. The Steel-eyed Protector. The Ishvalan Messiah. A year ago, he appeared out of nowhere, travelling across the country to save and protect the people. He was said to discriminate no one, nor did he care about status despite himself being an Ishvalan, probably even a victim of the civil war.

Many believed him to be a saint, or at least someone blessed by God, because one day he saved a village from bandits by creating weapons out of thin air. The next day, he healed an injured man through rapid regeneration, and on another day he protected a child who was trapped in a crossfire during a skirmish with a magical barrier. He continued performing miracles here and there, yet he managed to remain inconspicuous at the same time.

Bullshit, alchemists and civilians alike would say, if not for the number of witness accounts coming from throughout the state, sometimes from the military itself.

A legend.

Nobody knew who he really was. Many Ishvalans regarded the man as their saviour, a fellow Ishvalan who was chosen by Ishvala to free them from the Amestrian government's shackles. The military hadn't said much other than claiming the man as an Ishvalan, so it was pretty clear that the man himself didn't work for the military.

But Scar felt that there was something...different about him.

"...Are you truly an Ishvalan?"

The man raised an eyebrow, before letting out a mirthless laugh.

"You're the first person to ask me that ever since I set foot on the Amestrian land," he replied. "Funny."

Scar squinted his eyes. The room was too dark to see anything clearly, but he was pretty sure the man's feature resembled more closely to a Xingese than an Ishvalan, colouring aside. He knew the differences pretty well, since Ishval used to be a relatively popular crossing point for Xingese traders heading to the west.

Besides, the grey eyes instead of red suggested that he was not an Ishvalan descent.

"A Xingese...No, a mix?"

The man shrugged, "It doesn't matter."

 _It matters a lot_ , Scar thought bitterly. _Because it is a matter between God's mercy_ or _punishment_.

"I see you've... _eliminated_ this man."

Scar snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing the words. His eyes landed on the dead man, the chimera still alive and miserable.

"He had defied God," he argued.

The man's steel eyes sharpened, "Are you playing god?"

Scar frowned, "I am carrying out God's will."

"The so-called 'God' that you're referring to cares no such thing."

Scar's eyes narrowed in anger, "You're no Ishvalan. You know nothing. The Amestrians...The alchemists slaughtered our people for the sake of evil, and they were all condemned to God's punishment."

"All humans are capable of good and evil," the man said in return. "You were about to kill the chimera too, even if she was innocent. You might reason that she is better off dead than being shipped off to the lab, but you're no different than those you loath. Who are you to judge others?"

Memory of the Amestrian doctors rose unbidden. Shocked, betrayed, _bloodied_ -

 _You're no different._

Roaring in rage, Scar lunged at the man, readying his right hand to destroy. His mind reasoned that equivalent exchange or no, Ishvalan or no, this Saint was still an alchemist.

Someone who had gone against God.

 _You're no different_.

A pair of Xingese black and white scimitars appeared on the Saint's hands. There was no visible evidence of a transmutation array, nor was there any gestures necessary to construct weapons out of thin air. The man's swords appeared just like that.

No matter. Scar grabbed the black one on the man's left hand and activated his array.

The sword immediately turned into blue particles before dissipating.

Scar's eyes widened, because instead of violently shattering like any normal objects he'd deconstructed, this sword dissipated just like that.

Even then, the man had shown no outward reaction upon finding his sword get destroyed so easily, because he countered by thrusting with his white sword.

Scar managed to dodge by a hair's breadth. He promptly made a move to destroy his opponent's outstretched right hand, but the sudden appearance of a black blade at the corner of his eye forced him to duck.

Delivering a foot sweep, he allowed the man to jump before Scar attacked from below. The man brought down his white blade, and Scar parried it by slamming the hilt with his bare left hand. The black blade soon followed, but it was quickly reduced to blue particles upon contact with Scar's right hand.

Suddenly, the black scimitar appeared on the man's left hand once more. He stabbed Scar's right hand with it, prompting Scar to grunted in pain. A right kick soon followed, propelling Scar towards the wall with the black blade still sticking in his hand.

Scar groaned, sluggishly trying to stand. It was a damn hard kick, and his right hand was now useless. The exchange barely lasted for ten seconds, yet for the first time since his journey to eliminate as many alchemists as he could, he was completely bested by one.

The man's ridiculously quick construction of blades as well as his unorthodox melee fighting style were dangerous, even for someone who had faced many veteran alchemists in the past months.

Scar was wary. This man...His skills and abilities were beyond what alchemists could ever achieve.

Impossible. Truly preposterous.

God's blessed...or God's bane?

Scar shook his head. If he couldn't carry out God's will and avenge his people's deaths, then he might as well fight to death.

He was about to lunge at the man once more when the Saint said, "Enough. This is pointless."

"What?"

"I've come here not to kill you," the man admitted. "Though, I have a question for you: have you ever heard of the Philosopher's Stone? I've been looking for one."

Scar frowned upon hearing it.

"I've only heard of the name in passing, of a stone that allows its user to bypass the equivalent exchange law. It does not exist in real life, merely a fantasy, for it is against God's laws," he grunted.

The Saint grumbled, "Figured as much."

Scar eyed the man suspiciously. "You used the stone to perform miracles, do you?"

"Of course not," he deadpanned. "There's a reason why I'm looking for one."

 _Then, how did you perform miracles?_

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud whine coming from the chimera.

"Da...ddy...Don't...leave," it said. "Wake...up…Ni...na...hurts..."

The Saint sighed. He willed the black sword that was still embedded in Scar's right hand to dissipate. Scar hissed in pain as blood flowed freely from the wound.

"You should leave, now," the man said. "The military is coming. I have a more important matter to deal with than your brooding, anyway."

Scar's eyes twitched. He saw the man lifting the chimera up and settling it on his shoulder like a sack of potato.

The Saint glanced at Scar one more time, before leaping towards another building's rooftop in a display of superhuman strength.

Then, they were gone.

* * *

"Lieutenant Hawkeye!"

Riza Hawkeye paused, turning to see Edward calling her out, the large, fully-armoured man that was his brother Alphonse following him as usual.

"Edward, Alphonse," she greeted. "What brings you here so early in the morning?"

Riza frowned at the two in concern, especially at the golden-haired boy, because unlike the enthusiastic brothers she had known them, they were now down and depressed. Edward looked pale, the bags under his eyes indicating that he didn't get enough sleep.

"Um," Edward started, looking down at his feet. "What's going to happen to Tucker and Nina?"

 _So that's why._

"Mr. Tucker was supposed to be put on trial and have his State Alchemist qualifications stripped…"

She trailed off. Riza wasn't sure of what the Elric brothers would do upon hearing what she'd say next.

Edward and Alphonse looked up, noticing her hesitancy. Riza sighed in resignation. They'll find out about this sooner or later, anyway.

"...But Mr. Tucker was found dead this morning, and Nina is missing."

Their eyes widened in shock.

"D-dead? Missing?" Alphonse asked.

"He was killed," Riza said, turning to walk away. The Elrics quickly followed her.

"Why?!" Edward demanded, his voice hysteric. "By who? Where did Nina go?"

"I don't know. I am about to head to the scene myself."

Edward ran up, blocking her path as he stubbornly said, "We're coming with you."

Riza was about to forbid them to do so, but she refrained. The East City Headquarters had just received a call from Lt. Colonel Hughes saying that a man dubbed 'Scar' might be behind the murder, which indicated that the man could still be somewhere in the city. He usually targeted State Alchemists, and Edward was one, thus a target.

It would probably be best for the Elric brothers to stay close with Riza's group.

Though, she couldn't help but to warn them of what was to come.

"It'd be gruesome, so you better prepare yourself."

* * *

Edward Elric almost threw up on the spot upon finding out what had become of the Sewing-Life Alchemist.

There was so much blood, covering the corpse from head to toe. Some parts of his body were deformed, especially his head. Lt. Colonel Hughes had told them that Tucker's internal organs were completely destroyed.

It was a violent death.

Feeling sickened, Ed scrambled to leave the room, his brother Al calling him out in concern. He couldn't bear to see the dead body, no matter how much he wanted Shou Tucker pay for his sins.

Ed thought he was prepared to be a State Alchemist. He thought their human transmutation on their mother had somewhat desensitise them from the gore.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Al hovered above him in concern. He handed Ed a bottle of water, and for a moment Ed thought it must be nice for Al not to feel nauseous -

Ed slammed his head onto the wall behind him, hard enough to stop the ugly thought from continuing.

"Brother!" Al shouted in worry.

"Sorry," Ed said dizzily. "Thanks for the water."

"You should rest, brother. You didn't get enough sleep last night."

Ed shook his head.

"Nina is still missing. We have to find - "

"No," a new voice said.

The Elric brothers turned to see Colonel Mustang coming out of the room where the corpse laid, followed by Lieutenant Hawkeye, Lt. Colonel Hughes and Major Armstrong.

"There's something you need to know before going off on your own," Hughes gestured for them to follow him. "Let's head to the headquarters first."

Half an hour later, the six of them gathered in Colonel Mustang's office.

"'Scar'?" Alphonse questioned.

"Yes," Lt. Colonel Hughes said. "We don't know much about him, so that's what we call him."

"We have no idea what his aim is, and he's extremely elusive," Major Armstrong continued the conversation. "Only that he has a large scar on his forehead, is probably an Ishvalan and targets State Alchemists. So far, eleven State Alchemists were found murdered by him, including Shou Tucker and Basque Grand."

Ed shuddered. State Alchemists. He was one, and now there was a possibility that he would end up like Mr. Tucker.

"But you said he was probably injured, right? You told us there was a trace of blood that wasn't Mr. Tucker's," Ed asked. _Hopefully, it wasn't Nina's._ "So can't we track him down?"

Lt. Colonel Hughes shook his head, "True. But the rain washed down the rest of his blood trail, so he could be anywhere in the city now. And the blood test could take a few days, even weeks or months, to find out whose blood it is exactly."

They fell into an uneasy silence, dreading the moment Scar would come for them next.

"What about Nina?" Al asked out loud.

The seniors looked at each other. Colonel Mustang finally sighed, before looking at the Elric brothers in the eye.

"Hughes told me that the Ishvalan Saint was here, in the East City - and he might still be here," he said. Ed and Al perked up at that. "Nina missing could mean good or bad, but I suspect he was involved in this."

"The Ishvalan Saint is said to be benevolent," Al said excitedly. "Could it be him who took her away?"

Colonel Mustang seemed to have a different opinion, because he shook his head.

"Nina is a...chimera. One who could understand human language," the colonel argued. "The Ishvalan Saint might have good intention, but we don't even know if Nina was taken by him, kidnapped by someone else, or went off by herself to begin with."

"Then, we gotta find him," Ed said in determination. Al nodded in agreement. "We got some important questions for him, anyway."

* * *

It was four days after their confrontation when Scar struck again, this time targeting Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist.

Counter Guardian EMIYA, or Archer as he used to be called during the Fifth Holy Grail war, observed their fight from a nearby rooftop. Despite the military's precaution, Scar seemed to have caught the Elrics off guards, because without warning he killed off their escorts and quickly moved on to the blond kid.

The kid and the armoured man who Archer suspected to be Alphonse Elric had worked together remarkably well so far, protecting each other's back and counter-attacking Scar's advances smoothly. Though, this might be partly because of Scar being handicapped by his hand injury.

The wound reminded him again of the poor young girl, Nina Tucker, who was a victim to her own father's obsession on alchemy. Archer had managed to intervene before Scar could kill her, but he was too late to prevent the alchemist from turning her into an animal.

Fortunately, alchemy was still a branch of magecraft, or at least was considered as one, so Rule Breaker could work. The jagged, iridescent dagger of Medea had the capability to returned magical contracts, items and creatures back to their original components, in a state before they were made. The process had involved many screamings of pain on Nina's part, but as of now she had successfully turned back into a human (though, sadly, her dog had died during the process).

Archer felt bad for inflicting more pain on the young girl, but it was either that or leaving her to death. He was a hypocrite, because he was no different than Scar, after all. Despite his previous argument, Archer would rather kill Nina himself than leaving her to crazy alchemists if not for Rule Breaker.

Archer shook his head. No, even if he had no access to Rule Breaker, he would find other means to return Nina back to normal. Ever since he set foot on this world, Archer had vowed to himself not to kill people if possible (except for his targets, or if he had no choice). His last summon to the Fifth Holy Grail War had revived his resolve once more, and he ought to save as many people as he could.

He couldn't be an Ally of Justice anymore, but that was the least he could do.

Besides, Alaya's mission this time was more like a vacation to him than the usual culling task. Apparently, Alaya owed a divine being from another world called 'Truth' a favour. Truth was now demanding Alaya to return the favour by lending Truth her best agent.

Truth wanted a certain...being dead. The Dwarf in the Flask, the being was called, had been trying to steal Truth's power by becoming a vessel to the divine, destroying the balance of the world by doing so. Truth, on the other hand, could only communicate with the Earthens if and only human transmutation was performed, by which not many dared to try.

So, here Archer was, becoming Truth's temporary agent in Amestris.

Truth had given him a couple of hints that would lead him to the Dwarf in the Flask, mainly about the existence of the Philosopher's Stone (another thing that had apparently irked Truth), the Homunculi and the Human Sacrifices.

" _Find them,"_ Truth had said. " _Especially the one named Edward Elric. He is an interesting human; he should provide you with sufficient entertainment while you are there."_

Cool.

"Al!"

The distressed shout snapped Archer out of his thoughts. He looked over the rooftop walls to see Alphonse collapsing on the ground, his armour…empty?

'What,' Archer rubbed his eyes, then took a look at the armour again. 'No, the empty armour was definitely moving just now.'

Alphonse Elric was somehow still alive, though how did he do that without a human body but only an armour was a mystery. Archer concluded that it might be the result of the Human Transmutation Truth was talking about.

"You bastard!" Edward roared, lunging at Scar with his transmuted dagger readied. His anger made him reckless, and Scar utilised it by grabbing Edward's right hand and activated his transmutation array.

Though, for some reason instead of a mangled arm Edward's arm was fine. Moments later, his automail arm was revealed, which the kid had used to transmute a blade.

'So that's why he's called Fullmetal Alchemist,' Archer mused. 'I thought it was because of the constant presence of his armoured brother.'

Scar and the Elrics conversed a bit more (Alphonse told his brother to run away, but Edward vehemently refused to do so. Scar kept mumbling only to himself, that broody, sad man), then Edward clashed with the Ishvalan once more.

Seconds later, Scar easily destroyed Edward's automail arm by deconstruction with his right hand. Archer sighed. What a waste of good materials.

Edward scrambled backwards in fear. His right arm was now useless, rendering him incapable of performing Alchemy. He was completely at mercy of the vengenceful man.

Well, time for action. Wouldn't do for the midget to be dead.

Archer traced Kanshou on his right hand, before throwing it at the Ishvalan man. Scar seemed to have noticed the black sword at the corner of his eye, or maybe it was the man's survival instinct, because he managed to leap back and escape the blade's trajectory by a hair's breadth.

"You…," he snarled upon noticing Archer's presence.

"I thought the last time we met I'd made a clear point, Scar," Archer said as he leaped to the ground, landing between Scar and the blond kid. Edward bulged his eyes out, startled and completely floored by Archer's inhuman feat of fifteen feet jump without so much of a broken bone. "You seem to have yet learnt your mistakes."

Scar hissed at him, "He's a State Alchemist, one of many beings who alter the original form of matter. In other words, an affront to God, the creator of all. By God's decree, he deserves to die."

"True," Archer replied, narrowing his eyes. "But he's still a kid, still innocent. He has never participated in any war." _Yet_.

"Then, acting as God's hand, I shall bring you judgement instead!"

Tracing Kanshou and Bakuya, Archer blocked Scar's overhead kick in time. Scar jump back to touch the wall of a building, before using his right hand to create an explosion out of it.

Archer leaped back to avoid getting hit by chunks of concrete, grabbing Edward's collar along the way. He threw the blond kid to the alley where his brother Alphonse was.

The cloud of dust that had rose prevented him from seeing his opponent. No matter.

Projecting six mundane swords in the air, Archer launched them at the smoke screen. Scar emerged from the dust to avoid being impaled, giving Archer the opportunity to throw Kanshou and Bakuya in an arc at him.

The Ishvalan whirled to dodge the flying blades, touching the ground as he did so. He activated his array, prompting blue lightning bolts to travel across the ground towards his opponent, intending to destroy his footings.

Archer reinforced his legs to jump higher than what human was capable of, and he threw a new set of Kanshou and Bakuya towards the Ishvalan.

Scar dodged them once more, though he had to quickly scramble away in order to escape getting sliced by the first Bakuya. Two identical pairs of scimitars magically flew around him due to their special property of attraction, and Scar had a hard time avoiding them without getting harmed.

Grunting in exertion, Scar managed to touch one flying blade with a display of agility and destroy it, then another blade, and another. The last sword fell to the ground, having lost its attraction effect, but by then Scar's body was littered with minor cuts and lacerations. His sunglasses were long gone, revealing his red eyes to the world.

Breathing hard, Scar looked over his opponent and grunted, "How did you not even feel tired?"

"You're the one who kept moving around. Most of the time I only threw my swords," Archer deadpanned. _Besides, a normal human is no match to a Counter Guardian._

Archer admitted that the man was tenacious, because despite sporting numerous wounds Scar seemed ready to continue. Though, he froze upon hearing the sound of skidding tires and heavy footsteps behind him.

A gunshot reverberated throughout the area.

"That's enough," a dark-haired man exclaimed, raising the gun where the shot had originated. "You've made quite a mess of things, Scar, Saint."

Archer twitched. That name was _really_ creative.

The dark-haired man turned to address Scar. His eyes, as well as many others, widened upon seeing the red irises, nonetheless he continued talking.

"I'll be taking you into custody, Scar, under the offense of murdering a series of State Alchemists."

Scar tsked in annoyance. He briefly glanced at Archer, before deciding to lift his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Good, now - "

"I will eliminate those who interfere with my duty," Scar said out loud. "However, the time shall not be today."

Bringing his right hand down, he deconstructed the ground beneath him. It exploded and collapsed, generating enough cloud of dust to cover his escape to the sewer.

Archer sighed, though he refused to relax his fighting stance in the presence of potential enemies. The military seemed to have the same thought, since they immediately turned to aim their guns at him instead.

The dark-haired man frowned at him, partly in displeasure by the fact that Scar had escaped once more, partly in wariness of the man in front of him. A man who was thought to be a legend.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Saint," he said. "I am - "

"Don't call me that," Archer snapped. "I am no saint. Call me Archer." _Alaya damn knows I am the furthest thing from a saint._

Several eyebrows were raised.

"Fine, Archer it is, though I don't see a bow anywhere. I am Colonel Roy Mustang of the Amestrian military," the newly introduced colonel said.

'Quite a high-ranking soldier, huh?' Archer thought. 'I wonder if he knows about the Fuhrer being a homunculus, or if he has ever heard of one.'

Mustang was about to continue speaking when a loud bang resounded from the alley.

Fully alert, Archer whirled around brandishing his twin swords in preparation for an enemy attack. Instead, he saw Edward 'magically' spinning in front of his half-destroyed armoured brother before slamming to the wall.

"Stupid brother! I told you to run away!" Alphonse screamed. Archer was a bit put off upon realising that the younger brother couldn't have facial expressions, though the helmet's face was forever grim-looking.

"Don't be stupid, Al! I can't just leave you to die!"

Alphonse punched his brother. Ah, so that was why Edward did an impromptu cartwheel.

Archer and the soldiers present watched on the drama between the two close brothers, not realising that the effects of their bickering had managed to make the adults relax.

Minutes of a shouting match about living a full life or something, and a more subdued conversation about them being pathetic wrecks, the Elric brothers finally noticed the attention from their surrounding. Edward blushed in embarrassment, though it didn't stop Archer from smiling and projecting a coat to cover the boy's mangled automail.

A bespectacled man appeared out of nowhere.

"Yo! I am Lt. Colonel Maes Hughes - "

"Where have you been?!" Mustang spluttered.

" - I was taking precaution in case you freaks decide to fight! Don't you know how destructive State Alchemists are when they fight?!" Hughes harrumphed.

Then, he turned to Archer, smiling brightly as he continued talking, "Anyway, we should talk more in the headquarters. I'm sure we all have questions for you, Ishvalan Saint."

Archer twitched again. Fucking creative.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys!**

 **I didn't expect the number of favs and follows! Actually, I was only posting it online since it was rotting in my drive, and it'll be a shame not to share it online.** **I've written it on June, yes, but I hadn't thought of continuing it until just recently. But no worries! I already have a rough idea on how the story would continue from here.**

 **Without further ado, here's the next chapter!**

* * *

 **Disclaimer : I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood and Fate/Stay Night. There are some parts taken straight from FMA Brotherhood anime.**

 **Warning : I am not well-versed with weapons from Nasuverse, so I don't know exactly how Noble Phantasms would affect the Fullmetal world (and there are only 11 crossovers out there. 11!). So in this story, they are my interpretations, and there'll be some explanation in the future on why these weapons are behaving that way in this world. Though, you might disagree with me. Oh well, it's my fanfic. Don't like, don't read.**

 **And oh, there's an omake at the end of the chapter, so don't miss it! :)**

* * *

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 **Summer 1914, East City**

It was as if the world around him stopped moving when he saw the coat appeared out of nowhere.

 _Literally_ out of nowhere.

It seemed the others didn't notice what the Sa - _Archer_ had just done, since they were distracted by Hughes' sudden appearance. But Ed noticed, because he was right behind the Ishvalan. Archer lifted his hand, then the coat appeared just like that, covering Ed's mangled automail as if he did it without thinking.

No transmutation array, no base material to construct.

Just like Father Cornello's alchemy augmented by a Philosopher's Stone, a 'miracle' happened. Hell, the black and white swords might even be created in the same manner, though he couldn't really tell by the thick dust that prevent him from observing the battle clearly.

Ed vaguely heard Hughes asking Archer to come with them to the headquarters, but he wasn't really paying attention until the man answered.

"I refuse."

Ed blinked, before tearing his eyes off the coat to look at the soldiers readying their guns, aiming at the man even if Ed and Al was behind him.

He'd heard of the Führer's interest in recruiting Archer. The public hadn't been happy with the State's decisions during the Ishvalan Civil War, thus by adding an Ishvalan alchemist - one with a good public reputation to boot - into their ranks, they could gain their popularity back.

However, what if he refused? Ed didn't really understand why, but the State Military had always had extreme prejudice against the Ishvalans. Even if Archer wasn't one, he was still a powerful alchemist - and in the current situation, his refusal could be seen as declaring himself a threat to the Military.

Ed tensed, preparing for an unavoidable retaliation, but a raised hand by Colonel Mustang halted the soldiers' advances.

"Well, at least we've tried," the colonel said, not at all sounding upset by Archer's refusal. He turned to his colleagues. "Lt. Colonel Hughes, Major Armstrong, go and take care of the casualties. I'll have a little chat with Mr. Archer here."

The rest of the soldiers reluctantly dispersed following Hughes' order, leaving Ed, Al, Riza, Mustang and Archer alone.

The Ishvalan cocked his head. "You're quite a shrewd man, colonel," he said, ignoring Riza who moved to reach Ed and his brother behind him.

"Well, whatever you mean?" Colonel Mustang asked with a shrug. "I just don't want to spark a conflict with a powerful, respected figure and potentially lose my men. The paperwork could be quite a headache, you know."

Ugh, politics. Recruiting Archer could gain him a favour from the Führer, but Mustang probably didn't want to risk his own reputation by going against the Ishvalan Saint, a legendary figure whom the people actually revered. Hell, some even thought him to be a God in mortal form, or at the very least blessed by the divines. After witnessing his short, one-sided battle with Scar as well as his alchemy without any kind of transmutation means, Ed would've inclined to agree if not for his atheist stance.

Though, it was also very difficult to perceive Archer's capabilities in a scientific manner.

There was only one answer.

"Philosopher's stone," Ed said confidently. Archer raised an eyebrow at him, but Ed was sure of his conclusion. "You use the Philosopher's Stone to perform your alchemy right? That's how you construct your blades and heal people."

The creaking sound of metal indicated his brother's interest in the subject too, as Philosopher's Stone was their main reason of travelling across the country. The red stone had the capability to bypass the equivalent exchange, disregarding scientific rule of constructing something out of nothing.

It wasn't a stretch to consider healing through rapid regeneration either, as the Stone should be capable of triggering production of cells without the necessary material and energy to do so.

And the Elric brothers needed that.

Though, their hope began to crumble away when the Ishvalan snorted.

"No, I don't," he admitted. "I use magic."

Silence.

"Funny," Ed deadpanned, before turning serious. "I've seen a fake Philosopher's Stone, which could still be used to bypass Equivalent Exchange. The owner utilised it to construct an intricate sculpture out of nothing, and even made a chimera with...it…"

 _Shit, he forgot -_

"This fake Philosopher's Stone," Archer interjected before Ed could say anything else. "Where did you see it?"

"Uh, it's at Liore. But wait, I need to ask you - "

"Then, that's my next destination."

Without more words, he bent his knees, and shot up to reach the rooftop. His sudden movement startled the rest of them, but Ed quickly scrambled to follow -

 _Fuck, his automail, no alchemy_ -

"What about Nina?!" he shouted instead.

There was silence. Ed slumped in defeat, before -

"She's fine."

The Ishvalan Saint was gone.

* * *

.

.

.

Pain.

Pain. pain. pain. It felt like an eternity. Blood red painted her world, as crackling sounds and tortured screams filled the background.

She was hurting all over - her body felt tortured and bent in the wrong way, her head throbbed painfully, her heart -

 _It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!_

Her mind -

 _It hurts it hurtshurtshurts please, Daddy MAKE IT_ _ **STOP**_ _-_

 _\- B_ **r** o **k** _ **e**_ n _ **.**_

.

.

.

* * *

She gasped for air, feeling suffocated and claustrophobic as her eyes snapped open. Darkness greeted her, and she couldn't see anything, couldn't breath -

A rough palm covered her eyes. She jerked in fright -

"Shh," a deep voice whispered reassuringly near her ear. "Breath. It's alright now. You're safe."

She forced her lungs to suck in gulps of air, still panicking but the warmth of the palm slowly grounded her. The voice continued to sooth her with murmurs of comfort, and before long she finally relaxed.

There was a moment of silence as she gradually realised that she was lying down on a soft mattress, and judging by the direction of the voice, someone was somewhere beside her.

"Okay now?" the voice - a man's voice - asked.

She gave him a tiny nod.

"Right. I'm going to turn on the table lamp so your eyes won't hurt too much from the sudden brightness. Keep your eyes closed for now."

The hand covering her eyes was removed, and she missed the warmth. There were rustling sound of someone moving, and then a distinct click.

She cracked an eye open, before quickly shutting it again due to the sudden spike of pain from the dim light. Blinking a few times, she could finally make out the dark shape seated by her side.

It was the glowing twin orbs of silver that caught her attention first. Then, the tufts of grey hair, before the figure slowly came into shape. It was a man.

"Water?" he offered.

Realising that her throat was dry, she nodded again. The man helped her sluggish body to sit up, and gave her a cup of water.

"Slowly," he urged, and she obeyed. While she took sips of water, he continued, "Do you remember me?"

She drew a blank.

"Figures," he sighed. "I was only there by the end of the confrontation. I carried you here and, ah, restored you. You were asleep for two days."

She stared at him for a second.

"...Who…?" she croaked.

"Oh, where are my manners," the man scratched the back of his head. "I'm Archer. You remember your name, don't you?"

Silence.

"...You don't?"

She shook her head.

"Well, I guess something went wrong when I restored you. I know your name, but for now it's best to come up with a new one since, er, unsavoury people have been looking for you."

He hummed as she waited for him.

"How about Saber?"

* * *

Christine Mustang, better known by the name Madame Christmas, couldn't stop thinking about _that_ man upstairs.

...No, not in that way, ugh. He was too young for her, and he was just a guest renting a room in her brothel…

...Okay, let's just start from the beginning.

A year ago, one of her girls, Vanessa, was flirting with a drunken patron when she heard him blurted out a horrible secret. The patron, a State Alchemist, had apparently been kidnapping poor Ishvalans to be used as test subjects to his research, and he'd been bribing state guards to turn a blind eye. Nobody would miss Ishvalan refugees except for the community itself, and ever since the civil war, they'd lost their voice as they were deemed below even second-class citizens.

However, Chris knew her foster-son wished to change the lives of the Ishvalans as a result of the war. Roy had transformed from a naive soldier to an ambitious colonel, with an absurd dream to be a Führer so that he could prevent the Ishval Civil War from happening again. Coupled with the fact that he needed a boost in his military reputation, Chris decided to relay the information to him.

Days later, the State Alchemist was apprehended and stripped off his rank. Yet, the government appeared to be quite corrupted too, for the bastard was able to walk free despite his crime, with a despicable reason that Ishvalans were not considered as citizens of Amestris.

Worse, he knew who'd tattled him. Vanessa was on her way to the workplace when she was attacked.

Fortunately, the former State Alchemist didn't expect himself to be attacked too, especially by one he deemed as non-human. An Ishvalan came out of nowhere, dislocating the bastard's shoulder just before he could touch Vanessa. The bastard turned to retaliate with his alchemy, but before he could even use his array, swords appeared out of thin air to pin him to the wall. The blades didn't do much more than giving him small cuts (though Vanessa claimed he whimpered when a blade came dangerously close to his crotch) but it did a good job of keeping him there until the police came to arrest him. By then, Vanessa had long since dragged the Ishvalan along to the brothel, where she'd introduced him to Chris.

Archer was his name, a grey-eyed Ishvalan who'd soon become a legend.

Chris was grateful towards him, and offered him a free night with her girls (Vanessa was quick to volunteer), but the man refused. Which was weird, considering Vanessa was a beautiful, voluptuous woman, and one in high demand. Surely any young man could never resist her? Well, unless if he already had someone, or preferred men.

When Chris said that out loud, Archer spluttered. Apparently, he wasn't gay.

Finally, after constant badgering (and flirting from Vanessa), he relented. One favour, he'd said, should he need one in the future.

Chris didn't like owing someone, but he did save one of her girls. Besides, he sounded like a decent man, and judging by Vanessa's accounts, a powerful alchemist too. Well, she'd at least relay this information to Roy.

The Ishvalan Saint hadn't been seen again around the East City for about a year, until five days ago, he came back. Vanessa almost tackled him in a hug if not for the...dog with human hair on his shoulder.

" _Boy," Chris called him out. "This is a brothel, not a pet store." If he wished to get laid, he better not get dog hair all over her club._

" _I know," the man deadpanned. He went to sit at the bar, on his left a happy Vanessa and on his right an unconscious dog. Chris prepared him a small glass of Xingese_ _báijiǔ_ _._

" _It's not on the house," she said as she served the uncommon liquor to him._

" _I thought you owe me a favour," Archer grumbled. He drank it straight anyway._

" _So should I count it as a payment for the_ _báijiǔ_ _?"_

 _Archer sighed, "You're a horrible host."_

" _I'm still successful, anyway," Chris countered, lighting a cigarette. Blowing smoke out of her mouth, she turned to the dog laid on the bar. "What's this?"_

" _Someone I should save," he said softly, before locking eyes with the procuress. "I need a room for a few days, and no one should enter but me unless I say otherwise."_

 _Chris raised an eyebrow, before shrugging._

" _That's easy," she said, before retrieving a key and passing it to Vanessa. "Dear, bring him to room 3003, will you?"_

" _Okay~!" Vanessa replied sultrily._

Too bad he didn't invite her into the room. Vanessa had sulked for the entire night, though she became puzzled when Archer asked her for a little girl's clothes on the next day. The confusion turned to surprise (and suspicion, but Archer only gave her a blank look) when he told her to help him 'dress someone', only to find a sleeping little girl covered in a familiar cloak instead of the strange dog in his room.

Chris wasn't surprised, however, for in the morning she'd received a call from Roy to look out for an unusual dog or a lost little girl. Her foster-son had mentioned that the Ishvalan Saint might be responsible for the missing dog or girl, and curiously, he said 'or', not 'and'. Chris wasn't an alchemist, but she did hear about the Life-Sewing Alchemist's feat of creating a talking chimera and the tragedy that had befell his family just a day ago.

It wasn't difficult to connect the dots.

She was broken out of her memories upon seeing Archer descending the stairs to the bar. Her girls started squealing (and the other patrons grousing) when he came without his cloak, showing off his muscular figure to the world. It was also Chris' first time seeing his strange attire: a black tight and sleeveless shirt with silver lines outlining his muscles and a metal plate on his collar, as well as black pants and black metal shoes.

"Madame Christmas," Archer greeted. "Is it possible to pay the báijiǔ with cooking? I want to save money."

Chris snorted, "That báijiǔ was one of my best collection. It costs more than your cooking."

"...I've only drank one small glass, not the entire bottle."

He went into the kitchen anyway, ignoring Chris' half-hearted protest. She threw her hands up, and followed him.

The kitchen was empty when they arrived. The last chef was fired because he couldn't keep his pants on, and her girls were seducers, not chefs. Their cookings tasted like shit. Chris hadn't had the time to look for a new cook.

Archer hummed in appreciation upon finding the fully equipped kitchen (of course, her hostess bar was the best one in town, so the kitchen must be in a top condition too. She just needed a world-class chef and it would be perfect). Chris blinked rapidly when the man expertly chose specific ingredients from the fridge and handled the utensils.

Chris was watching the sizzling meat on the pan intently when Archer said, "I need your favour."

"Hmm," she sniffed distractedly, basking in the delicious smell of marinated lamb chops. "I thought the room was already my return of a favour."

The (possibly decent) cook grunted, "Hopefully this dinner can pay that back too." He covered the pan, hiding the meat from her hawk-like gaze, before moving on to prepare two plates. "No, I need your help to take care of the girl in my room for a few days."

"I thought it was a dog?" Chris asked idly, feigning ignorance.

"No matter," he said. "Just don't let your dear colonel take her to the military."

She froze, before forcing herself to relax.

"Whatever you mean?" _How did he know?_

Archer tapped his ear. "I have a good hearing."

 _But she'd made sure the bar was empty when Roy came and they'd exchanged information quietly -_

"Besides," he added. "You may trust him, but do not trust the military. Someone up there isn't as good as he's perceived as."

Her eyes widened at the implication.

Silence. Archer continued cooking as if he hadn't just dropped a nuclear bomb, and presented a plate of pan-fried lamb chops to her. He walked past her with another plate of the same dish (probably for the girl upstairs), untying his apron as he went to exit the kitchen.

"Oh," he paused. "Don't let the Elric brothers know of her too. She's currently in a fragile state, and their presence may complicate things."

And then, he was gone.

 _Damn it_ , she cursed inwardly after tasting the lamb chops. _I should've kept him here as my cook._

* * *

.

.

.

 **The next day, Liore**

Humans were so silly.

A cacophony of battle cries and screams echoed throughout the town. The metallic scent of lifeblood permeated the atmosphere, mixing with smoke and ash as a result of tragic deaths. Ah, she could feel the despair in the air, and the anticipation of what was to come.

Humans were frail. Predictable. Foolish.

Generally useless too, for Cornello's incompetence had forced her to take matters into her hands. Drunk with power of the Philosopher's Stone, he disobeyed her words, and turned into a flailing mess of a monkey.

Though, she was irked by the Fullmetal and his brother's interference. They were meddling little humans who kept getting in their way, and she couldn't even kill them for that as they were important Human Sacrifices. At least, they gave her a valid reason to finish off Cornello once and for all.

"Foolish, foolish!" Lust patted Gluttony's head as he echoed her thoughts, watching the spectacle of the human conflict together from the church's tower. It was like a war between two factions of ants, one devoted followers of the fake god Leto and the other heathens who defied said god. She hummed in appreciation when more blood was spilled to the ground, feeling remorseless over the deaths of animals beneath them.

"Yeah, seriously," a gruff voice joined in, and before long a bald old priest came from the stairs, a deacon following closely.

"Oh my, Sir High Priest," Lust greeted seductively. "Sorry for giving you so much trouble."

Cornello shrugged. "I'll be returning to my assigned town once all of this is over," he said with a grin so out of place on a priest's face. "Besides, all of this happened just because you manipulated a bit of information and I stirred the believers, just like those Ishvalans years ago. Oh, how nostalgic."

Blood calls for blood, while hatred begets hatred. Human were simple beings, as they never learned their mistakes, no matter how many times history was repeated.

"What a foolish, sorrowful creature, humans are," she sneered in disgust.

"But that's why we can have them play right into our hands, is it not?"

Lust smirked. Well, at least that was the good part.

"Will more people die?" Gluttony interjected. She patted his head again and gave a confirmation, prompting the cute ball of Homunculus to grin in delight. "Can I eat all the ones that died?"

"No eating," Lust reprimanded him, making him deflate in disappointment. "We need as much blood as possible, remember? If you eat them, Father won't be pleased."

She turned to look at her other colleague and scrunched her nose. "By the way, Envy, just how much longer do you plan to stay in that form? It's kinda gross."

The priest grinned, before red lightning bolts appeared out of his body.

"Hey, hey, I was just going with the flow," he said as his body rapidly transformed, his voice became a dissonance of a gruff and a mischievous young voices. "But I guess it's better to transform into someone young and cute, huh?"

A teenage boy was revealed, with long spikes of black hair and attire that were familiar to her. He grinned when the deacon gasped in disbelief.

"M-m-monster!" The deacon screamed. "W-what's this?! Where's Father Cornello?!"

"Can I eat him?"

Lust and Envy blinked at Gluttony, before gesturing for him to go ahead.

"Oh, yeah," Envy said amidst the gruesome sound of bone crunching and flesh ripping. "I heard Shou Tucker from East City was killed."

"Tucker?" Lust raised an eyebrow. "Well, he's a small fry, so who cares?"

"Apparently he was killed by that Scar guy," Lust frowned in displeasure. What an annoying insect, Scar was. "Besides, Tucker's specimen was taken away before we could even get our hands on it."

Lust waved Envy off. "Wrath can take care of that."

"Well, it wasn't the military who took it," Envy sighed. "It was that damn Saint - "

"Hmm? What's that?"

They paused, turning to see Gluttony pointing his blood-covered index finger to the sky -

\- And the world exploded.

* * *

Ten kilometers away, Archer dissipated his bow, and reinforced his legs to run straight to the now-destroyed church. He could smell the unnaturally potent scent of blood all the way from here. Reinforcing his eyes, he concluded that three Homunculi were in Liore, and took action before they'd realised he was here.

Archer ran past the people around him, the injured and dying who needed his help. He ignored them all and continued his journey, because he had to make sure his targets were dead.

 _Kill one, to save ten. Kill ten, to save a hundred. Kill hundreds, to save a thousand._

He could not afford to regret his decision, because this was who he was. The Homunculi were part of the Dwarf in the Flask, who had annihilated an entire country in the past to make itself a god. Liore was minuscule as compared to Xerxes, and he would rather sacrifice the town's people rather than letting the Homunculi go and kill more.

It was hypocritical of him, a man who was deemed as 'Saint', a legendary figure who'd save people wherever he went, forsaking a town engulfed in a civil war.

 _Later_ , he reasoned. _If there are survivors, I will save them. But not now, when the enemies are here_.

Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, the Counter Guardian finally reached the rubble that was the town's church. Bodies were scattered on the ground, some mutilated, others charred as they were caught in the blast. But he wasn't looking for bodies.

A flash of light appeared in his field of vision, and he'd found it: a glinting red stone lying on a pile of rubble.

Picking it up, he inspected the Philosopher's Stone. A powerful item providing souls in exchange for alchemical power, the stone contained a hundred times more energy than Rin's jewels, and Archer was wary of its potential -

Spinning, Bakuya appeared in his right hand to slash, cutting bulging flesh like a hot knife through butter. A large homunculus - Gluttony - stumbled to the ground screaming, its burnt flesh and the cut he gave it rapidly healing. Archer tsked, cursing his inattentiveness but the blood scent was so potent he couldn't distinguish -

The stone in his right hand twitched, and flesh grew out of it, quickly forming into a body of a woman with the stone in her chest -

He beheaded the woman before her head was even fully formed, but he was forced to let go of the stone as sharp, splindy claws rose to cut his arm -

And jump backwards before a large boulder hit his side.

"What the fuck?!" the Homunculus on his left - Envy -, whose hand was extended and transformed halfway into the boulder, spluttered. "That was too sudden, you bastard!"

Archer tsked. He'd ambushed them based on an assumption that Caladbolg II's blast would be massive enough to incinerate them to dust. He'd underestimated the Homunculi's rate of regeneration that even with their entire body gone, they could still survive so long as the Philosopher's Stone that made up their core still exist.

The Homunculus woman in front of him - Lust - narrowed her eyes as she eyed Bakuya.

"Swords, an Ishvalan…," she smirked at him. "The Ishvalan Saint, huh? Well, Father wishes to see you - "

A yellow spear appeared in his hands, displacing Bakuya, and he disappeared from their sight -

\- Before appearing right in front of Envy, spear already swung to cut his extended arm.

The Homunculus screamed, and Archer spun to kick him. But the body was surprisingly sturdy - no, it was denser, heavier than it looked - that even with the strength of a Counter Guardian, Envy was propelled for only a few meters. A body that size should have flown much farther than that.

"W-what?!" Envy grunted, clutching his stump. "Why isn't it healing?!"

Archer spun his spear, flicking the blood off the blade. Gáe Buidhe, the Yellow Rose of Mortality, was a cursed spear of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne which has the ability to inflict wounds that cannot be healed naturally or with magecraft. Alchemy, no matter how different it was from his original world's version, was still considered as magecraft. Rapid regeneration of these Homunculi should be alchemy, and even if it wasn't, Gáe Buidhe would still prevent the wound from healing naturally.

Gluttony roared, lumbering towards him with surprising agility. Archer dodged its tackle, before cleaving the monster into two. Both parts fell to the ground, its left side crumbling to dust while the other half was trashing, still alive.

Ugh, it was like a cockroach, refusing to die even after it was mutilated beyond saving.

"Gluttony!" Lust screeched, wildly swinging her splindly sharp nails as she advanced, cutting debri here and there in an attempt to hit Archer. He cut a few of her blades in turn, retreating to escape the annoying nails.

"En **o** _u_ **g** _ **h!**_ " Envy roared as his body bulged and grew into a massive monster, with multiple pairs of legs (though, one of its legs was missing), long human-like hair and a dog-like head with six pupils in its left eye. Human faces and limbs protruded all over its body, crying and screaming and flailing wildly as if they were drowning. " **Father did say we can bring him dead or alive, so we should kill him!** "

Envy lifted its front leg and swung, missing Archer as he'd already leapt to deliver multiple wide slashes. It howled in agony, the human-like things on its skin screamed along with their vessel as he'd sliced its colossal neck, spurting blood. He was about to launch a follow up attack when thin blades struck him while he was airborne.

He sliced them up easily and landed several paces away from the three Homunculi. Gáe Buidhe was still in his hand, though he slightly regretted tracing it. After all, if he let it dissipate, the Homunculi would regain their regeneration ability, thus limiting his own potential of using other more powerful weapons.

However, even after receiving a fatal blow, Gluttony was still alive. Useless as he couldn't even stand, but its right side was still alive, even if it had no heart. Should he change his tactic?

But before Archer could come up with a decision, Lust beat him to it.

"Envy, Gluttony," she snarled. "Retreat. He's too troublesome."

Envy scowled, but obeyed. He scooped Gluttony up and slammed the ground with its tail so hard it collapsed, kicking up dust.

 _Underground?!_

"As if I'd let you!" Archer dashed to follow them, but he paused upon reaching the hole. There, underground, was a dark tunnel filled with many eyes and teeths.

" **This is as far as you can go** ," the darkness rasped as it grinned at him. Archer contemplated on tracing black keys, but even then he didn't know how it would affect an entity who was the shadow itself, and the tunnel looked endless. " **How pathetic, to see my siblings running away instead of facing a measly human. Were it not for Father's demand to keep them alive so long as they were useful, I would've killed them."**

"Why don't you come out, then, and see why were they running away from me?" Archer had noticed the shadow, while covering the entire wall of the cylindrical tunnel, had never left beyond its container.

" **Don't be so full of yourself, human** ," it sneered. " **I am Pride, the first Homunculus, and the strongest of my kind.** **Humans are nothing to me.** "

Archer cocked his head.

"Oh, but I'm no human," he smiled, before turning away, tracing a long cloth to wrap Gáe Buidhe. He could fight Pride there and there, but it would be a waste of effort if he didn't know where its main body is. "Besides, you can't even get out of that hole to do any damage. So at least, be a good child and tell your dear Father that his days are numbered, will you?"

The eyes narrowed, but the shadow retreated.

" **The next time I see you, I will eat you, Ishvalan Saint.** "

Archer groaned.

"Could you stop calling me Saint?!"

.

.

.

* * *

 **Omake - Archer thinking about names**

"...You don't remember?"

"..."

"Well, I guess something went wrong when I restored you. I know your name, but for now it's best to come up with a new one since, er, unsavoury people have been looking for you."

Okay, names.

"..."

Uhh...She was turned into a dog-like chimera by her father, so…maybe he should borrow names…

...Atalanta? No no no, that was like a reminder that she was a chimera. Besides, Atalanta's ears looked like cat or fox ears, not dog.

...Rin? Ugh, no. Rin was a tsundere, and he didn't want Nina to turn into one.

Okay, maybe he should make an acronym out of Nina's name.

...Nani?

"...How about Saber?"

No wonder he was called 'The Saint'.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Merry Christmas! Hohoho!**

 **This will be the last post for the year, since I'll be going off to China for vacation until 7 January. So, happy early new year too!**

 **There will be a long, long author notes at the end of the chapter, mainly to explain my reasonings for the events that are happening in this chapter. Since this is an AU (just like any crossovers should be), there will be many major canon divergences.**

 **Also, this chapter is to explore a possibility of what is really happening in Liore. The Brotherhood anime as well as the manga kinda skipped this part, and I haven't watched the 2003 FMA yet so hopefully by the end of the chapter, this story is still somewhat reasonable.**

 **And I think the pace of this story is getting slower...Sorry for that.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer : I do not own Fate/Stay Night or Fullmetal Alchemist, only Captain Wright and Lucas here. Klemin is not my OCs, in case if you're wondering. He's one of FMA's minor characters.**

* * *

.

.

.

Rosé did not expect this to happen. At all.

In just one week, her world had turned upside down. Rosé had always been a devoted believer in the sun god, Leto, and she had dutifully adhered to Father Cornello's every single words. The priest had once claimed that Leto was capable of answering any prayer, saving those who believed in Him—and she was indeed in desperate need for help.

 _Please, oh Lord. Please bring Cain back to me._

But it all turned out to be a false hope, for the priest was a fraud, and all his teachings were a sham. She would have never imagined to defy Father Cornello were it not for the Elric brothers' intervention, revealing the fake priest's nefarious plan to the entire town.

In just one day, her eyes were opened.

 _What am I supposed to cling to from now on?_

" _Decide that for yourself._ "

Edward had said that amidst her despair. Get up and take a step. Walk forward. You've got two fine legs on you.

 _But what's the use of two fine legs against something like this?_

She'd seen Father Cornello's deformed body moments after the revelation. She'd watched him stumble into the church, all the while cursing the alchemist brothers as he escaped the protesters. A week later, she'd witnessed him completely healed and _healthy_ , stirring the mass with his claim of devotion to the false god - triggering a civil war.

And in just one night, the world had turned to hell.

* * *

There was a boom of explosion so deafening it momentarily stopped the conflict.

Rosé staggered outside their shelter (it was Mr. Lucas' bar—the mustached man had kindly turned his dwelling into a secret haven for those who refused to be involved in the bloodshed), together with the other townspeople. The billowing black smoke originated from the church, and their eyes bulged out upon seeing _nothing_ in place of the bell tower.

"The church!" a Letoist fighter cried in horror. "It was bombed!"

Many gasped, but the rest went back to fighting each other. Bombings were common during conflicts, and the Letoists fought with a renewed vigour believing that the disbelievers had dared to bomb their sacred place.

But their conflict was interfered once more, this time by an animalistic roar coming from the church. Rosé's eyes widened upon sighting a massive... _monster_ , something that shouldn't have existed—long dark mane, eight legs, body as big as three stories building and jaws so massive it could _swallow a car_ —and it was rearing back, blood spurting from its neck—

There! Someone was there, high in the sky—wearing tattered cloak and wielding a golden spear, beating back the monster with ease.

It was truly an awe-inspiring sight, one seared in the Lioreans' mind. The entire townsfolk rushed towards the church's—

And there _he_ was, standing alone amidst the rubbles, casually wrapping his spear with a long strip of cloth as the sun set behind him.

The man paused, looked up to see the mass in front of him, and blinked.

"Um—"

"I-i-it's the sun god, Leto!" someone shouted reverently from behind her, and she would have to agree with him. After all, Leto was depicted as a god with the solar eclipse behind his back, wielding a mighty spear to drive evils away. A spark of hope was lit in her heart that maybe, just maybe, Leto was _real—_ and he was here to save them all.

"Wha—," the man spluttered. Just then Rosé realised he did not exactly resemble how Leto had always been depicted as. The man in front of them had white hair and tanned skin, with glinting silver eyes...only his spear fit to the description of the sun god, actually.

The others had noticed too, for they began to eye the man in wariness—until a woman shouted from somewhere in the crowd.

"Perhaps, Ishvala?!"

Some Letoist vehemently disagreed. "No, you heretic! Can't you see the spear? It's Leto's—"

"Cornello is a fraud! The sun god Leto does not exist!"

"Then, who is he?!"

As one, the crowd turned towards their topic of argument, and the man scratched the back of his head.

"I am not Leto, nor am I Ishvala," he sighed. "I have heard of the ongoing conflict in the city, then I decided to come to investigate and...take care of the perpetrators."

The people deflated, but Rosé noticed he didn't say he was _not_ a god—and then, she remembered.

"The...The Saint," she whispered, but it was clear enough that the others could hear. "Y-you are here to stop the conflict, right? To save us?"

The man facepalmed.

"I am here to help you restore the city," he finally admitted. "And for the last time _please_ , call me Archer. I am not a saint either."

But Rosé was sure that he was one, because she'd heard the rumours of the Ishvalan Saint's accomplishments. She complied nonetheless, joining the crowd in cheering.

"Lord Archer! Lord Archer!"

Said Lord facepalmed, _again_.

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* * *

Brigadier General Klemin couldn't believe what he was seeing.

He had believed that his mission was simple: create as much bloodbath as possible in Liore. The religious city was one of the Blood Crests, an intersection point of the Nationwide Transmutation Circle. Klemin was tasked to make sure Lieutenant General Grumman's troops don't interfere, and to let the townspeople finish each other off unhindered. There was a small problem with his men as they kept insisting to go to the city and suppress the conflict, but a few shots to the limbs for reason of insubordination as well as harsh threats did the job of putting his squad in their place. Other than that, his mission was easy as pie.

Or so he'd thought, but what Klemin saw from his telescope almost made him think that he didn't get paid enough to deal with this shit.

First, a bomb at the church where the Homunculi were. How did the perpetrator plant the bomb unnoticed—especially within Glutonny's vicinity—beats him, but the explosion was so massive and so sudden that it knocked Klemin off his bed while he was sleeping in his tent.

Second, Envy. It was the first time Klemin saw Envy transform into his true form. Even without using a telescope, the brigadier general could already make out the monstrous beast all the way from the hills outside the city—and the _blood_.

How?! The Homunculi were supposed to be immortal, _invincible_! They were the pinnacle of perfection, a form which Klemin hoped to achieve once the Nationwide Transmutation Circle is activated. Any wounds should have been healed in an instant, but the sight of Envy's true form rearing back with a pained roar and a permanent cut had rendered him speechless.

And the one responsible was that Ishvalan fiend.

A flash of light caught his attention. With his telescope, he soon realised that the reflected light came from a gleaming pole that the Ishvalan was holding—

Then, the Lioreans began to cheer so loudly he could hear it all the way from his tent.

Klemin slammed his telescope to the ground.

"Men!" he hollered angrily, prompting the soldiers to straighten. "Ready your guns!"

Gasps of horror echoed throughout the unit.

"Sir—!"

Klemin took out his own pistol and shot to the sky, startling his rowdy men.

"This is an order from the Führer himself," he growled, retrieving from his breast pocket a rolled piece of paper King Bradley had given to him. "Liore is a city full of extremists, and their influence threatens the peace and security of Amestris! They are to be put down as soon as possible!"

It wasn't actually stated that their troops were to annihilate the townspeople themselves; they were to prolong the Liore uprising as much as they could. King Bradley's orders to him were a part of the Order of the Ouroboros' plan, which was to cause as much deaths in Liore as possible, so what Klemin was doing right now should be acceptable. However, his men didn't know that, and Klemin waved the Führer's seal around to emphasise his point.

"But the Ishvalan Saint—"

"—Is even worse! Can't you see that _he_ is the one who rallies the radicals?!"

Beads of sweat rolled down his temple as his men looked at each other, scepticism and unease thick in the air. This was bad. Liore was not bloody enough, and Klemin was about to lose his men's obedience. Not wanting to end up betrayed by his own soldiers like Brigadier General Fessler, he gritted his teeth and shouted.

"Do you wish for another Ishval?!"

That did the trick. The older soldiers tensed, before steeling themselves and readying their guns. Not knowing what else to do, the younger ones followed suit. Klemin huffed in impatience. _Finally_.

As one, the marched into the city. Many flinched upon finding out what had happened while they were idle, as destruction and gore were at every corner of the street. There were no survivors; the heavily wounded had succumbed while the rest already gone off to the church. Some of the soldiers turned green, but they dared not to run off and throw up.

Klemin, on the other hand, led the group with ease, even grinning to himself when the men couldn't see his face. A few minutes of marching had given him more time to think, and regain his own confidence.

The Ishvalan Saint. What a big thorn on their side. The Good Gentleman wished for the Ishvalan to be brought before him—and it shall be _him_ , Klemin Weaver, who will capture the bastard. While his mission hadn't turned out as simple at it should be, _this_ had become a superb stepping stone to get promoted, and possibly gain a favour from King Bradley and the Good Gentleman(1).

An hour after the explosion, they finally reached the town centre. His troops quickly spread out, surrounding the townsfolk in a well-practiced formation. Klemin had expected the crowd to still be there, though there were only with their primitive weapons and no women and children in sight. The Saint was there too; standing in front of the crowd with his arms crossed, the golden pole stuck on the ground and— _was that a bored look on his face?!_

"You Ishvalan snake!" Klemin barked, though he faltered a bit when half-lidded but _sharp_ steel eyes met his own. He gulped, before puffing his chest to regain his bravery. "You have committed crimes against Amestris and her people, spreading radical teachings and recruiting extremists to spill the blood of our people! What say you in your defense?"

Dead silence.

"...Amazing," the Ishvalan drawled. "Your deduction is most astounding. Why, I have only been here for about an hour and already I am a terrorist leader."

Klemin grinned savagely. "Terrorist! A fitting moniker for you, Ishvalan. A monster who brought terror everywhere he goes!"

Said terrorist gave him a deadpan.

"If I am a monster, what about the giant creature just now, then?"

Murmurs of unease began to resound both in the crowds and between the soldiers. After all, Envy's true form was even worse than beasts straight out of a fairytale book.

"That must've been an abomination you had purposely summoned to entice the people!" Klemin lied, unbothered by the comment. Though, he hoped the Homunculus was already far, _far_ away from Liore.

"Oh?" the Ishvalan hummed. "So you saw it?"

"With my own eyes!" Klemin exclaimed, now slightly irritated. The Ishvalan terrorist sure liked to stall his imminent arrest. "Now, surrender—"

"I wonder if you were already here when the riot escalated."

Klemin spluttered.

"W-We've just arrived!" the brigadier general lied again. But his men ducked their heads, ashamed by their inaction—and the Ishvalan noticed.

"You have just arrived," the man repeated slowly. "The civil war had been going on for weeks, and you're saying you have just arrived? Your troops must've set a record for the slowest reaction time in history."

Klemin's face turned beet red, bristling at the insult. Yet before he could say anything, the Ishvalan continued.

"Oh, wait. Some of the townsfolk did say that the Eastern troops were dispatched a day after the conflict started in order to stop it from worsening, but then they suddenly withdrew…"

"They were incompetent—"

"—And you are even more so. Remember? You came a _week_ later," the terrorist shamelessly interjected. "I've never thought that the State Military is this inept."

"We have reasons—"

"Hm, are those tents I see?" the Ishvalan interrupted again, looking far in the direction where the Central Army had camped. Klemin whirled around, but he could barely see the inconspicuous dark tips of their tents on the hilltop. _How did the bastard manage to spot it?!_ "I could see your bed from all the way here, general. Had a nice vacation?"

" _Enough_!" the brigadier general finally snapped. "All troops, FIRE!"

The townsfolk flinched, huddling close together behind the Ishvalan as if one man could act as a human shield against gunshots from all direction. But the shots never came.

Klemin blinked, turning around to see the soldiers remaining frozen in place.

"What are you doing?" he snarled, almost frothing from the mouth. "I said FIRE!"

"B-but, sir! The civilians—"

Klemin threw his hands up. "They're extremists, for fuck's sake! Do as I ordered—"

"They won't," the Ishvalan suddenly raised his voice. "Any decent person could see that this will end up a slaughter instead of a fair battle. The townsfolk are completely defenseless with their simple tools against your firearms, and this will definitely end up in a pointless bloodshed."

A vein popped out of Klemin's head. He couldn't come up with a proper retort, because the Order of the Ouroboros did _need_ the bloodshed. Instead, he snatched one of his men's machine gun—

And opened fire at the Ishvalan.

The cackle of the machine gun burst into life, bullets whistling by and kicking up dust. It obscured his vision, but the cacophony of screams had ensured him that he'd hit his targets.

"Ha! Serves you right, you bastard!" Klemin cackled, his finger pressing firmly on the machine gun's trigger until there was no ammunition left. "Scums like you deserve to die—"

"Are you referring to yourself?"

The brigadier general choked, not at all expecting a comeback. As the dust settled, his eyes widened in shock. Because instead of bloodied corpses, there was a massive, translucent pink _barrier_ in front of him, the Ishvalan right behind it with his right hand outstretched.

"W-w-what?!" Klemin stammered, before throwing away his machine gun and took out his pistol, opening fire once more. The bullets hit the barrier, yet they never manage to penetrate it. He began to hyperventilate and was about to snatch another machine gun from one of his soldiers when a black blade came out of nowhere, severing his left hand.

Klemin howled in agony, crumpling to the ground while clutching his stump. He couldn't believe what was happening. His bravado was gone, replaced by pure fear. The pain, oh, the pain!

"H-h-help!" he cried to his men. "Help me, s-soldiers!"

The soldiers flinched, but none moved to assist their commander. Spittle flew everywhere as Klemin cried for salvation, crawling towards his men to seek protection, but twin swords appeared to pin his legs to the ground, triggering another blood-curdling scream.

"M-mercy…," Klemin sobbed. "Please, spare my life! I will g-give you anything you want! Money! Asylum! T-that's right, we will leave the city now and give you the peace you want! J-just grant me mercy!"

"You called me snake, but you're worse than one," the Ishvalan began. Klemin pissed himself when the man moved to crouch before him, a gleaming dagger in his hand. "I could see shame in your men's eyes, but yours, I saw nothing but excitement. You were truly looking forward to annihilate me, ignoring the fact that civilians are in the line of fire…"

He leaned forward and whispered, "...No, actually the more blood is spilled, the _better_ , right? Liore is a Blood Crest, after all, and you would do anything to gain favour from the Dwarf in the Flask. You are completely willing to repeat the Ishvalan Civil War just so that you could achieve your foolish goal."

 _How did he know?!_

"T-t-the Führer will kill you for this, you d-demon!"

Said demon blinked.

"Huh. That's actually much more fitting than 'Saint'."

A blade descended on his head, and Klemin knew no more.

* * *

"Report to whoever's in charge now," the Ishvalan said, dusting himself off as he stood up to address the Central City troops, "That I am the one responsible for this fool's death."

"H-huh?" the soldiers looked at each other, completely thrown off by the current situation. The problem of the day had escalated so much that they did not know what to do next. Their commander met a sudden and violent death, but curiously, they felt no remorse - only relief.

"It makes no sense that he's the only casualty from your side," he reasoned when he was met with their silence. "Your inaction could be seen as a court-martial offense, no matter how many of you are here. The central command would want to investigate your commander's death, and they will ask why didn't you protect your leader."

An officer stepped forward. He was Captain Wright, the next in line to assume command. Brigadier General Klemin was so sure of his victory and success of his mission that he did not even bother to bring more higher-ranked soldiers (2).

The Ishvalan's eyes landed on him, and Wright gulped.

"S-sir," he began, almost saluting before realising that the man in front of him wasn't from the military. "Even then, we are equally guilty for not stopping the riot. We...we remained idle while the death toll skyrocketed."

Many of the soldiers glanced at the townsfolk, as well as the rubbles around them. There were no corpses around, possibly because while they were marching the Lioreans had already gathered the dead from around the church's area. But the soldiers well knew that a significant number of the population had perished.

The Lioreans shuffled uneasily as well. The military was at fault for not intervening, but the townsfolk were the ones who were deep in the bloody conflict. The Saint's arrival gave them a pause, and a moment to think of the reason why were they fighting in the first place. Many remembered the broadcasted confession of Father Cornello's nefarious plan, but the betrayal was too painful that they refuse to believe what was right in front of them. They inflicted this upon themselves.

The Saint held his gaze, before sighing.

"Did you willingly stand aside as the riot went on then?"

"No," Wright said. The others shook their heads too. After all, they did try, and some of their friends were now at the medic tents because Klemin shot their limbs for going against his words. "Brigadier General Klemin ordered us to observe the riot from afar, and we were told not to intervene. We would've gone against him were it not for the Führer's seal."

The soldiers felt truly chained, like dogs who could only obey their master's words.

"The Führer, you said?" the Saint asked. The soldiers gave an affirmative, and he fell silent.

Suddenly, one of the soldiers broke out of his unit and pointed his gun at the Ishvalan.

"Y-y-you Ishvalan!" he shouted even though his knees were shaking badly. The crowds drew a startled gasp, but a raised hand from the Saint stopped them from retaliating. "You are here for revenge, a-aren't you?! My comrades had died in your hands, and I won't let you kill more!"

Some of the soldiers followed suit, notably the veterans - those who had experienced the horror of the Ishvalan war. Klemin, no matter how despicable he was, was here under direct orders from the Führer. Their general had claimed that the Saint was a threat to Amestris, and it might very well be true.

But the Saint did something unexpected. He raised both of his hands in surrender, and smiled softly.

"You joined the military because you care for the people, didn't you?" he asked. "Rest assured. I am here not to cause unrest, but to help the town recover. Though, if you still don't believe me, you can detain me."

The troops faltered. After moments of silence, they lowered their guns, prompting the townsfolk to sigh in relief.

"We won't detain you," Captain Wright finally said.

The Ishvalan Saint lowered his hands as well.

"That's good," he replied, before looking around. "If you're feeling guilty for your inaction, you should aid the townspeople. You brought your medics, yes? Then they can help the injured ones; they're at the town clinic behind the church. The rest could help remove the debris and rebuild the infrastructures."

"What about you, sir?" the captain asked as his men followed the Lioreans and did their assigned jobs.

"I will stay here to help around, until you're called back or your reinforcement come," the Saint replied, heading to the clinic. "You better ask for aid from the East Headquarter instead of Central. As you said, the Führer's order is the reason why you are here. At least the East did send their troops to suppress the conflict before you came."

* * *

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"Checkmate."

Roy Mustang groaned, before glaring sulkily at his superior.

"Give me a break, General," he grumbled, staring at the chessboard to try make heads or tails of where he'd gone wrong. "You've won for too many times already I've lost count."

General Grumman snickered at him as he took out a black notebook. "It's zero win, 95 loses and 15 stalemates, Colonel Mustang," he said smugly, making amendments on his book and showing it to Roy.

Not for the first time, Roy was tempted to put on his gloves and snap his fingers at the General. He was an intelligent man, but also a competitive one. How come he'd never won a single game against the elderly man after playing chess together for more than three years?!

"One more game!"

"Sure, sure," the general smiled indulgently, clearing the board off the remaining chess pieces and replacing them. "Young people sure are ambitious these days. It makes me wonder why are you still single, colonel. Shouldn't young men dream on having a family?"

Roy graced his superior with a sigh, having heard of the same inquiry for so many times. He expertly ignored the question and moved his first chess piece.

Grumman, seemingly unconcerned, continued longingly as he moved his own piece, "I am an old man now, Colonel Mustang, so at least grant me some happiness by marrying my granddaughter."

"You're jumping a gun, general."

"Well, this old man can dream—"

A knock interrupted their conversation, and an officer emerged from behind the door.

"Excuse me, sir, but this is urgent," the officer moved to whisper in Grumman's ear. Roy leaned back to give them some space, wondering what urgent news could it be—and hoping that it won't give him more deadly paperwork.

Things were getting out of hand in the past two weeks. There were the rowdy Elric brothers coming to East City, then Tucker's atrocious crime, Scar—which inevitably led to many nightmares of the Ishvalan Civil War—, and finally the ever mysterious Archer. The mountain of paperwork was growing frighteningly quickly in a span of one week.

Paperwork, sleepless nights, angry Ishvalan bent on killing State Alchemists, more paperwork _and_ Riza looming over his shoulder with her guns pointed at him, threatening that if he couldn't finish the reports, she should finish _him_ off instead. Roy desperately needed a drink, but oh, the hangover and _Riza_.

What could be the most shocking thing was that Tucker's daughter was now no longer a chimera. Shou Tucker was a state-certified bio-alchemist, a scientist who devoted his life in his research. He was found guilty for willingly using his own family members to further his studies, because he could only discover more by using human beings in his experiments. His most recent chimera was both an accomplishment and a sin, a curse that doomed his daughter's life forever.

Or so Roy had thought, but then his main source of intel, Madame Christmas, told him that apparently, a certain Ishvalan managed to reverse the transmutation in just one night. Roy had expected the man to keep Nina Tucker safe, but he didn't expect him to do _that_.

How. _How_?! He wanted to pull his hair out because the Saint shouldn't be this omnipotent! Roy had even verified it by checking on the girl in Madame Christmas' club, and she looked exactly the same as the girl in the Tucker family photograph. He would've believed it if Archer was an expert in bio-alchemy, but the Ishvalan already had 'transmute swords out of thin air', 'rapid regeneration' and 'magical barrier' in his long list of abilities.

And that wasn't the end of it. Apparently, Archer also knew that Madame Christmas regularly reported his activities to Roy. However, he did nothing about it but gave her a few cryptic warnings to be passed on to the colonel.

One of his messages was not to fully trust the military, especially the upper echelon. The idea sounded treasonous, but Roy wasn't surprised. Grumman had told him that the government was not completely 'clean', and it was best to have as many allies as he could in the top brass of the military. But what intrigued Roy the most was that the Saint had clearly said 'someone isn't as good as he's perceived as.' Singular. One person.

A shiver ran down his spine—but not in horror. It was excitement, _anticipation_.

If Archer was referring to the Führer...

He was broken out of his thoughts when Grumman addressed him.

Roy blinked.

"Liore?"

"Yes," Grumman nodded, standing up to stare out of the massive window of his office, the chess game forgotten. "The troops from the Central had just requested for reinforcement from East City. The riot in Liore has ended, though apparently, their commander Brigadier General Klemin was killed in action. Go there and assist the Central Army in restoring the city, Colonel Mustang."

Roy frowned at that. "Why me? Not that I'm complaining, but General Halcrow is stationed in New Optain, which is much nearer to Liore than East City. His troops could reach the city sooner."

"Well, Halcrow is too uptight to my liking, while this mission requires someone who's a bit more flexible," Grumman said, his playful manner gone. "The Ishvalan Saint is in Liore, and he's the one responsible for Brigadier General Klemin's death."

Roy's eyes widened. He confronted Archer just last night after a short battle Scar, and while Roy had anticipated that the man's next destination would be Liore, he didn't expect him to have reached the town so soon.

And he didn't think the Ishvalan Saint to hold this much power that he could kill a commander surrounded by soldiers.

"What about the casualties on our side?" Roy asked, already thinking on who should he bring with him and how many troops. He had to face this in a cynical way, else his men would pay the price. "How many soldiers were killed?"

"That's the thing," the general said, his brows knitting. "None."

"...What?"

"None, or so what the Central troops had claimed. It is possible that the Saint had discreetly assassinate Klemin."

Unbelievable! During the Ishvalan War, any assassination attempt on the Führer or any of the top brass had ended up in a failure, simply due to the sheer number of soldiers around that made it almost impossible for the enemies to sneak in. Liore shouldn't have been any different. Roy had known that Archer was highly skilled in combat, but assassination...That was a whole new level of 'dangerous'.

"But why the Brigadier General?" Roy asked his superior. "I thought the Ishvalan Saint is neutral. He has never targeted the military before, a high-ranking commander to boot!"

"That intrigues me too," Grumman admitted. "Add to this the fact that the Central Army in Liore is requesting aid from us instead of Central...Something isn't right. That's why I asked for you to go, colonel. Find out what's happening there."

* * *

.

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 **Omake**

Klemin: "You have committed crimes against Sky—I mean, against Amestris and her people—"

Archer: "Fus ro daaahh."

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(Sorry, I couldn't help it :'v)

* * *

 **(1) The Good Gentleman refers to Father/The Dwarf in the Flask, in case you're wondering. Actually, only Brigadier General Edison called Father that, but as I was writing the story, it made no sense that the other military top brass members would call the big boss 'Father' too. They're not his 'children', unlike the Homunculi.**

 **(2) Brigadier General Klemin knew that the Homunculi were in Liore (the Führer or any of the Homunculi might've told him). That was why he was sure of the success of his mission. Klemin brought a sufficient number of soldiers just so that he could make his mission look valid when he had to persuade the East Army to leave the city to him, while in actuality he didn't even have to lift a finger to spill blood in Liore.**

* * *

 **Never thought writing this chapter would be so damn hard…**

 **Liore is a minor part of the story in Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood. But Archer's action against the Homunculi changed that, and suddenly it turned into a major canon divergence. And there are so many possibilities on what would happen next that I had to keep rewriting this chapter.**

 **Initially, I wanted King Bradley to be in Liore (maybe leading the Central Army that was stationed there), but it doesn't make much sense for him to be there in the first place. Three homunculi (plus one if you count Pride) were already there, and Liore's riot was technically not as significant as the Ishvalan Civil War that the** **Führer doesn't have to be there.**

 **Then, Rho Aias. At one point, I thought it was a good idea to make Archer appear badass. Then, after a good night sleep, I changed my mind because Rho Aias is simply overkill. Archer could've summon a mundane shield (or maybe do it Alchemist style, like project a slab of rock or something). But as I was re-reading Fullmetal Alchemist manga, Alphonse in his metal armour glory was shot by some bad people in the train in the early chapters (the Brotherhood anime doesn't have this scene), and all the bullets ricocheted off his metal armour and hit the shooters instead. If Archer summoned a mundane metal shield, the bullets were going to bounce off in all direction and may hit many poor soldiers. I don't think a wooden shield is enough to stop bullets, and if he projected a slab of rock...well, how big must he make it to cover the townsfolk behind him? He might as well project Rho Aias, maybe just one petal of it since each petal's defensive power is already equivalent to that of one fortress. So I changed my mind again. But this is my reasoning, so if you think otherwise, well...The story is already posted, so I don't know if I can change anything big. (No, I have not considered Shielder's shield or whatever it is from FGO, because Archer is already much more accustomed to using Rho Aias as his main defensive Noble Phantasm, and I haven't played the game yet. Shame on me!)**

 **Next, Hohenheim. Yes! I did consider for him to come to Liore, much earlier than canon, and maybe have some heart-to-heart chat with a fellow old, somewhat-immortal being. But no...again, it gave me a headache to think for the whys. I couldn't say what exactly, because my thoughts were too jumbled up to write them down. Later, old man.**

 **What about Ed and Al? Well, they're off to Reseembol now so that they could get Ed's automail arm fixed. Major Armstrong would still accompany them, and they'd meet Marcoh on the way to their hometown. So far, nothing would change much. Whether they'll visit Liore later or not (knowing that Archer was there), we'll see.**

 **As for Scar...In canon, Scar went missing after he was attacked by Lust and Gluttony in East City's sewers. A bloody jacket of his were found by the police, and they assumed he was dead while in actuality he was saved by Ishvalan refugees outside the city. In this story, there will be another canon divergence as Lust and Gluttony were currently compromised, and Scar was injured courtesy of Archer (though not as severe), but still in East City. I'll continue this in another chapter.**

 **And Roy! Finally he'll meet Archer again. He didn't get to talk much with him since Ed had rudely interrupted their conversation :v**

 **Sorry for the long A/N! :') And thanks for reading! See you next year!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Happy new year!**

 **The trip to China was, to be honest, quite bad. I live in a tropical country and I have never seen snow before in my life, so I and my family decided to go to China during winter to see some snow.**

 **Turns out, there was no snow despite the temperature being -13 degrees Celsius in Beijing. Why.** _ **WHY?!**_ **You can imagine how betrayed I was as we almost froze to death there without seeing any snow.**

 **And, well, after the 10 days trip to Beijing and Shanghai, I fell sick. I'll never ask for a trip to a country during winter again. Winter sucks.**

 **Now that I'm back to school (*cries), I'll be on hiatus until around April 2019. I have started on writing for the next chapter of What a Coincidence, and I have actually finished the next chapter of Flames of Steel, though I have to go through it with my beta first. This (Unequivalent Exchange chapter 4) will be the last chapter to be posted until April. Sorry for that!**

 **Without further ado, enjoy!**

* * *

 **Disclaimer** **: I do not own FSN or FMA**

* * *

 **Warning:** **Speculation on how to bypass Gae Buidhe's curse of mortality. I perceived wounds inflicted by the spear like benign tumours, so yeah. Some character development stuffs and, uh, a cliffhanger.**

* * *

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Lust watched her sibling screaming in agony in silent horror as he went down into the molten gold.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Gluttony shrieked, bawling and kicking as his body (or what was left to it) melted, mixing with the boiling element. He sobbed incoherently, possibly asking for forgiveness to Father for disappointing him. But Father sat impassively still, watching his son with a critical eye until Lust could no longer see nor hear Glutonny's cries.

Lust waited with bated breath, eyeing the flowing liquid of red as it passed through the clear pipes before Father collected it in a cup.

"My poor son," Father began monotonously. "May you be reborn once more, and serve me loyally till the Promised Day…"

Then, he drank it. Gluttony became one with Father once more, and Lust had already begun to sorely miss him. Envy was already gone before him, unsuspecting Father's method of restoring their bodies until the very last minute. They could not find the reason why the wounds inflicted by that Ishvalan scum were not healing, and the longer the wounds were left open, the more lives within the Philosopher's Stone were lost just to sustain her siblings' body. It was basically replacing blood and preventing tissues from dying constantly, which was why Father chose to reabsorb both Envy and Gluttony for now before recreating their bodies later.

Lust shuddered, as phantom screams of Envy and Gluttony kept echoing in her mind. She was lucky that only her nails were cut off—while they became chipped and ugly, it did not warrant a trip to the boiling bath. She clenched her fists, drawing blood, as she vowed to avenge her siblings—

"Lust," Father called, and she snapped into attention. "Go to East City and take care of the State Alchemist killer there."

"But, Father!" Lust exclaimed, feeling betrayed. "Gluttony and Envy suffered because of that Ishvalan scum! Let me go to Liore—"

"It is Father's order, Lust," a voice whispered, and suddenly shadows began to wrap her body, and sinister, red eyes of Pride narrowed at her. "That Ishvalan is problematic, but the State Alchemist killer is even more so. He has been murdering potential Human Sacrifices here and there, so he ought to be taken care of first."

Lust began to protest, but a tendril of shadow slithered around her neck, and she choked in fear.

"Don't be rebellious, little sister," Pride purred in her ears. "Or I'll eat you."

Father sat on his throne, watching her emotionlessly as she finally complied.

* * *

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Ed's blood ran cold.

"...A riot, you said?"

The voice on the other side hummed.

" _...Yes_ ," Mustang said, his voice slightly static. It was three days after their confrontation with Scar and Archer, and two days after he and his brother had reached Resembool when Ed received a phone call from the colonel. " _After you exposed Cornello's conspiracy, Liore went into a state of chaos. The devotees hunted those who disagreed with the Letoist teachings, and they retaliated in return. It turned into a bloody riot_."

Ed felt numb all over. A riot was far from their intention. They just wanted to find out about Cornello's Philosopher's Stone, a rare lead that could meant restoration of their bodies. The priest was a despicable man, someone who had tricked the entire town into blind devotion so that he could use the people as a loyal army—and all Ed and Al had done was to reveal his ugly secret.

It was meant to free the people...wasn't it?

A riot. They had triggered a war. Was it all their fault? Ed and Al had left immediately after telling Rose to decide for themselves, but surely the townsfolk...

" _The people of Liore have been under Father Cornello's guidance for so long that they do not know what to do once he's gone_ ," Colonel Mustang reasoned. " _Religion, after all, revolves around faith. It is about their way of life, about a devotion towards one cause. How would you feel if I told you that the Philosopher's Stone is a bogus?_ "

Ed paled even further.

There was a prolonged silence. He'd never felt this lost since their failed attempt at transmuting their mother.

A sigh echoed from the line.

" _Fullmetal_ ," the colonel called softly. When Ed didn't answer, he tried again. " _Edward, listen to me. You and your brother are still young, and unfortunately were in the wrong place at a wrong time. You had a good intention, yes, but all actions have their own consequences._ "

Oh, he'd heard of that phrase for so many times, alright. They even learnt it in school. Yet this was the first time it truly registered his pigheaded brain.

Consequences. Casualties. People's _lives_ were lost...because they were such a busy body—

A loud click from the line startled Ed, causing his poor ear to ring.

" _I know what you're doing, Fullmetal_ ," Colonel Mustang tsked. He had snapped his fingers over the phone, that bastard. " _You tend to blame yourself, just like that time when you transmuted your brother's soul. You might have to take responsibility for what you've done, but remember that this is not solely your fault. Cornello is the main perpetrator, and the Central Army didn't do their job properly to stop the conflict."_

 _The Central Army?_ "Shouldn't it be the Eastern Army? I reported Cornello to you."

" _They came to take command, forcing our troops to withdraw from Liore. Since then, the riot took a turn for the worse_ _until just recently_. _I'm going to go there to assess the situation myself_."

Ed chewed his lips.

"Take me with you."

" _No_ ," came an instant reply.

Ed reeled back, _hurt_ —before it turned into anger.

"Why not?! Like you said, I have to hold responsibility for what I've done! I should go there and help—"

" _No_ ," Mustang was relentless. " _I forbid you to go to Liore, at least until I've deemed it safe_ —"

"I'm not a _child_!" Ed cut him off, slamming his prosthetic hand onto the wall.

" _I never said you are_ ," Mustang snapped. " _But remember who you are,_ Fullmetal. _You are a State Alchemist, a military dog. Read your history book and tell me how the State won the Ishvalan Civil War_."

"To hell with history! I—"

Then it clicked.

"...I-I'll…" Ed choked, throat suddenly constricting.

" _That's right_ ," Roy whispered bitterly. " _A high-ranked commander was murdered in Liore, resulting in a political uncertainty. The prospect of Liore now isn't good. You might have to do your job as a State Alchemist there, Ed_."

A chill descended on him.

Ed was well aware of what kind of job that would be, and he'd known of that ever since Mustang visited the Rockbells those years ago. Granny Pinako and Winry were very against his decision to be a State Alchemist due to said obligations, but Ed was more interested in the prospect of research funding and resources that the military could offer. The times of war has ended, he'd reasoned, so they shouldn't worry too much.

But war could happen at any place, any time, in any size and for any reason.

Remembering the bloody mess of his transmuted mother in that dank basement—the only life he'd ever killed— _murdered_ , his own _mother_ —and to think that he had to do that _over and over again_ —

Ed felt sick.

" _Fullmetal, are you still there_?"

Mustang's voice cut through the suffocating silence that had came over their conversation.

"I—," Ed gulped, trying—and failing—to compose himself. "Y-yeah, I'm fine."

" _If you say so_ ," the colonel relented. " _So, you understand why I have to do this?_ "

"...Yes," the blond finally said. Mustang had done his best acting as his and Al's guardian (as he'd promised to Granny), so the least Ed could do was to obey him. Occasionally.

" _Good. For now, just focus on the Philosopher's Stone, and returning Alphonse's body to normal. I heard from Major Armstrong that you've met Doctor Marcoh on your way to Resembool_."

"Yeah," Ed was glad for the change of topic. He had too many morbid thoughts as of now. "He gave us a clue on how to obtain the stone. We'll go to Central after my automail is done."

* * *

.

.

.

Roy rubbed the gloves in his coat pocket nervously as he stepped out the military train.

He was finally here, in Liore, four days after the riot had ended. The town was a bit grander than any typical settlement in Amestris due to the presence of Leto statues and paintings decorating its infrastructures. It was, in a way, an ingenious method of integrating the religion in Liorean society, which made it no wonder that Father Cornello could garner so much faith from the townspeople.

Ed had even told him that there is a massive Leto statue in the train station, welcoming visitors and Lioreans alike. His charge had once scoffed at the sight, thinking that the townspeople must have been very uneducated to pray to the statues for 'miracles'. As an atheist himself, Roy could understand where had that come from.

Alchemists in general do not believe in divinity. Instead, they believe in science, in natural laws and facts. Religions such as Letoian and Isvalah believe that their gods are the only ones capable to perform 'miracles', but with alchemy, humans could play god. One of the reasons why the Ishvalan War had occurred was due to the tension arisen from this very fact, as the Amestrian government full-heartedly supported the advancement of alchemy at all cost.

Roy looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the famous sculpture, but he couldn't find it. Instead, there was an empty pedestal at the heart of the station, which made him wonder if the statue was destroyed during the riot.

"Sir," Riza, his right hand woman, suddenly whispered to him. "11 o'clock, soldiers."

Roy blinked, before facing said direction. Indeed, the Central Army was coming to greet them.

"Colonel Mustang, sir," they saluted as one of them stepped forward. "I am Captain Wright of Central Army, the next in command after...after Brigadier General Klemin was compromised."

 _Compromised_. Roy was dying to know the _why_ and _how_.

"I see," Roy replied, his eyes narrowing as he put up his facade of a commander. "I have so many questions for him, but I suppose it's unfortunate that he isn't around."

The captain, to his credit, didn't even flinch. Did he not feel any remorse about his own commander's death? Though Wright did nod, his expression turning grim.

"I could fill you in, sir," he offered, to which Roy agreed. "We should leave the station. I assume you wish to see the Ishvalan Saint?"

Oh yes, definitely. Wright gestured to follow him, and Roy complied, his troops hot on his heel. On the way out of the station, they had to part in half to give way to a carriage carrying a large painting of…

"...What the—what is _that_?" Roy blinked rapidly as he asked, because the figure in that painting was in no way Leto. After all, said figure was...familiar, majestically standing in front of a crowd while raising a gleaming golden spear in victory.

"Ah, that's the Saint, sir," Wright replied, his tone incredulously turning reverent. "He is the saviour of Liore, so the townsfolk decided to honour his deeds by decorating the town and replacing broken artworks with paintings and sculptures of the Saint."

...What.

"...Mr. Archer there looks nothing like how you described him," Havoc, another of Roy's closest subordinates whom he'd brought along, whispered to him as they continued walking. Roy wanted to go back and confirm what he'd just seen, but that would break his character as a commander now. "You should get a painting or a sculpture of yourself, Chief. Who knows, maybe you can gain more followers instead of haters this way."

"I'm already popular with girls, Havoc," Roy whispered a counter smoothly. "Perhaps it's _you_ who should get one, instead. Who knows, maybe you can get a girlfriend this way."

"What did the man do here, exactly?" Riza asked the captain as Roy left his petrified lieutenant behind. "To replace the Lioreans' god…"

"I wouldn't say 'replace', ma'am," Captain Wright hummed. "But many Lioreans did see the Saint as an agent of Leto or other gods like Ishvala. He protected them from Brigadier General Klemin, who opened fire at the defenseless crowd for reasons of radicalism."

"...Opened fire."

Wright nodded. "With a machine gun, and later on a pistol."

Damn, it seemed Grumman was right. The top brass, or at least one of them was rotten, not to mention stupid. Radicalism was bad, but it does not justify indiscriminate killing of defenseless people. That was massacre, plain and simple.

"Casualties?"

"None."

Havoc, who had just recovered from Roy's _very_ insensitive comment, tripped on his own feet.

"What," he choked, cigarette falling from his mouth. "How is that even possible?!"

"Well, uh, how to say this," Wright scratched his head, before shrugging. "The Saint summoned a giant pink flower-shaped barrier and shielded the Lioreans from the bullets, to put it simply."

Silence.

"You must be pulling my leg, captain," Roy blurted out, his voice strained.

"With all due respect, sir, I kid you not," Wright replied. The other Central soldiers who were accompanying them nodded in agreement. "It does sound ridiculous, but there's a reason why the painting just now have a flower in his hand."

...Okay, to be honest, it wasn't really something new. There was already a rumour of said magical barrier before this; who says he couldn't use it again? Only now they knew of its general shape—which was weird in Roy's opinion, considering that Archer didn't strike him as a type who likes flowers.

Though, the barrier might've just been due to alchemy, but Roy wouldn't know until he sees it. For now, he would classify it as such, else he go crazy.

"And the spear?"

"Oh, that was from when he slayed the demonic beast."

"...Could you start from the very, _very_ beginning, please?"

* * *

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.

.

It was only when he was finally seated in front of the Saint and looked closely did Roy noticed something fundamentally confounding.

"You're not an Ishvalan."

Archer blinked, before snorting.

"You're not the first who'd actually said that," he said. "Funny, that the Lioreans and the Central Army haven't said anything of my origin."

Captain Wright might have sputtered if he was here, but there were only Roy, Riza and the Saint in the private room provided by one of the townspeople (Havoc standing by outside the building). Throughout their journey to meet the town's saviour, Wright and his men spoke of the Saint as a benevolent Ishvalan, tolerating no evil yet still accepting the soldiers. Veterans who had fought in the Ishvalan Civil War were grateful for him as he showed no discrimination towards them, despite his kinsmen being slaughtered by their very own hands—giving them some sort of a closure to that horrifying tragedy.

However…

"You're not a pureblood Ishvalan, at most a descendant of one," Roy concluded. "I am a Xingese descent, so I know pretty well of Xingese' physical features. I didn't noticed it before due to the rain, but now that I've seen you more closely you're more of a Xingese than an Ishvalan, colouring aside."

Archer hummed, before shrugging. He neither confirmed nor denied Roy's statement, so it was a possibility. Interracial marriage was common after all, especially in a multicultural society like Amestris. In fact, before the Ishvalan Civil War, Ishvalan mix could be found everywhere in the country, easily identifiable by their red eyes, tanned skin and/or white hair. Even Roy was aware of one under Olivier Armstrong's command, having met the soldier in a military gathering some few years back in spite of the prevalent incarceration of Ishvalan soldiers.

And since normally Ishvalans rejected the craft of alchemy, considering it a practice based on hubris, Archer's constant display of alchemy made sense. He was not restricted by the religious law because he wasn't one of them. Then again, there was also Scar, so Roy was not so sure of his conclusion.

On the other hand, the fact that the Ishvalan Saint was _not_ even an Ishvalan implied many things.

"Did you even participate in the Ishvalan Civil War?"

Archer was silent for a moment, before tilting his head to the side.

"That's quite a jump in your assumption, colonel," he replied. "I may have a slightly different physical characteristic than a typical Ishvalan, but that does not mean I am not one. Who says I was not fighting the civil war?"

"I have never seen you before."

The Saint's eyes landed on the lieutenant standing behind Roy, who had just blurted that out.

"How so?" he asked curiously.

Riza knitted her brows, silently asking permission from her superior to speak further. Roy nodded, prompting her to straighten.

"I was a sniper in the war," she admitted calmly, and Roy felt a pang of sorrow and regret for not being able to protect her as promised. Not even now, when she had to relieve her memory of her own brutality. "Your physical characteristics are unique enough to tell you apart from the other Ishvalans. Even if you have never actively participated in the battles, I would have noticed you."

 _Because the_ _Führer's order was absolute and clear: exterminate all Ishvalan. Women, elderly, children; fighters or innocents, hostile or not_ —kill them all _._

And any surviving Ishvalans would have heard of the Hawk's Eye—the hidden, bloodthirsty killer who'd never missed a target. They would have reeled back in shock to meet her face to face before rage overcomes them to act out of revenge…

Which was why Riza lost her composure and blinked in surprise when Archer leaned forward in interest instead.

"A sniper, huh?" he asked, unexpectedly intrigued. "You sounded confident when you admitted that, but not boastful or arrogant. And I know that a significant number of Ishvalans had perished by the snipers' hand, bested only by the State Alchemists. The fact that you can face me eye-to-eye despite that speaks of your strength."

"That," Roy interjected, shifting as the Saint's attention returned to him. It was good that Archer held no malicious intent when he'd said that, but _still_. "And the fact that only _now_ you choose to reveal your prowess to the world makes no sense. If you did participate in the civil war with this kind of alchemy, we would have noticed immediately."

Archer blinked, before relaxing on his seat, regarding the two officers with a glint in his eyes.

"That's true," he finally said. "However, while I may not be present during the war, that does not mean I had not heard of the news. What makes you so sure that I am not here for revenge?"

A chill ran down Roy's spine. Archer may be compassionate, but the murder of Brigadier General Klemin revealed that he had a ruthless side as well. And the fact that this man was regarded by many as a Saint, he could easily made waves and threaten the country just by his words alone. An act of revenge could mean a full-blown _war_.

Roy leaned forward nonetheless, his own eyes sharpening as he regard the man in front of him.

"I will incinerate you before you could do that."

"Ho?" Archer smirked. "You sounds confident, Flame Alchemist."

"Do not underestimate me, Mr. Archer," Roy rubbed his gloved finger while Riza took a step forward, hand already fingering the gun holster on her hip as she silently prepared for a conflict. "You have saved many people across the country, but it won't stop me to end you here should you pose a threat to the country despite that."

 _A snap of his fingers was all he needed._

"How unforgiving," the Saint purred—and suddenly, swords appeared out of thin air, tips pointing at the two officers' neck. Roy's eyes widened in shock, not daring to move lest he lose his head. But a glance at his frozen lieutenant steeled him, readying his hand to summon a spark in retaliation. "To be ready to kill in cold blood for the sake of the country. As expected of you, Hero of Ishval."

Roy froze, before losing his composure as rage began to simmer through him.

"Do not call me _that_ ," he snarled viciously.

Archer blinked.

"You mean a hero?"

"I am no hero," the colonel scowled. "Especially _not_ that of Ishval. There is nothing heroic in burning people to death."

"You saved the country by doing so."

"Bullshit," he hissed in reply. "I don't see the people I save. All I saw were the citizens of my own country, screaming in agony as their skin melted and their blood boiled. Tell me then, oh Hero of Liore—am I a hero or a monster?"

Silence.

Roy continued glaring daggers at the man in front of him, hands clenching so hard it drew blood under the gloves. He hated the title, _despised_ it, cursing the Führer and cursing those ignorant fools who'd hailed him as a saviour of the nation for performing a massacre. And, most of all, he hated himself for being so naïve to have enlisted in the military, foolishly believing that he would do more good for the people.

 _The Flame Alchemy is the greatest and most powerful form of alchemy_ , his master had said. _But in the wrong hands, it would bring naught but ill fortune._

Roy realised that he envied Archer, who could serve the people freely without the military looming over.

Archer held his gaze. He seemed to have found something in Roy's eyes, because his gaze softened as he willed his swords to disappear.

"You're no hero," he finally replied, his voice empathetic for some reason. "But I believe you're not a monster either. Just a human, chained up like a dog and unable to do what you wish to do the most."

Roy exhaled, feeling tired all of sudden. He took a glance at Riza to make sure she was alright, before eyeing the man warily.

"You...understand."

"I do," Archer nodded solemnly. "Allow me to advise you, Roy Mustang: You can't save _everyone_. To save someone means not to save another, because no matter your intention, you can only save those who are on your side. Salvation is limited to a set number of people, and it will drive you to madness if you fail to see it."

Roy couldn't reply immediately, because now that Archer had said that, it was true. Judging by the tone, it made him wonder if the man had once been driven to insanity due to this very reason. Roy once again glanced at his most trusted subordinate, who had the authority to end his life should he ever step off the righteous path.

Archer followed his line of sight, before nodding in approval.

"You're not alone," he said. "That's good. People under your command will be your priority, thus you're clear on who you should choose to protect."

"...Were you alone?"

The Saint fell silent, before smiling bitterly.

"I wasn't alone, until I was."

Imagining himself without his subordinates, _without Riza_ —Roy's heart sank. And then, he was reminded of Edward, whose heart must have shattered when Roy barred him from going to Liore to help. His charge, who was so ready to help the people, who blamed himself for something that was not entirely his fault.

"...Keep that in mind, and you'll be alright," Archer said after a moment of silence. "On another note, I apologise for being rude before. I had to make sure that you're not another pawn of the enemy."

Roy blinked, thrown off by the sudden one-eighty change in the Saint's behaviour. "The enemy?"

"Yes," Archer nodded, before gesturing for Riza to sit down as well. She glanced at Roy who nodded, before complying, dragging another chair to sit beside her commander. "You must have many questions for me regarding the recent events that happened in Liore. Before we go there, I want to ask you something: How much do you know about the Philosopher's Stone?"

* * *

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.

.

Archer poured some tea into two cups before placing them on the small table, directly in front of the quiet officers.

The colonel and his lieutenant ignored the tea, choosing to sit still with their eyes downcast. The revelation must have set their mind whirring, because suddenly, everything _made sense_.

"...Shit," Mustang finally said, rubbing his forehead in distress. "It sounds preposterous, but the evidences are there. The wars and riots, the shape of the country, the Führer…"

Archer sipped his own tea calmly, letting them digest the implications of the Order of Ouroboros' plan. Though, he had to raise an eyebrow when the colonel suddenly stood up to head outside.

Two criss-crossed swords appeared at the door, halting Mustang in his tracks.

"Where are you going?"

"The telephone," Mustang whirled around and snapped at him agitatedly. "The Elrics, the Philosopher's Stone—I need to tell them!"

Archer sighed. It seemed the revelation shook the usually calm and collected colonel to the point he couldn't think straight.

"Calm down, will you?" Archer said. "Liore's communication system was sabotaged, which means you have to use the military SCR that may or may not already be monitored. Tell them face to face instead of using the telephone."

Gritting his teeth, Mustang paced around for a minute before sighing explosively.

"...They're going to Central in three days time," he mumbled to himself. If Archer was a normal human, he wouldn't have been able to hear it. "Maybe I should go there myself—"

"You can't just go there for no reason," Archer said, starting the colonel. "That would raise suspicion, especially when you're still under order to investigate and aid Liore.

Mustang turned to his lieutenant, Hawkeye. But before he could even say anything, Archer interjected, "Also a _no_. You do know that King Bradley is there, right?"

The alchemist threw his hands up, "Then what do you want me to do?!"

"Stay in Liore," Archer said, raising his hand to stop the colonel from interrupting. "This town is a Blood Crest, and I assume there was not enough blood spilled yet since the Homunculi were still here when I arrived. There's a high chance that the Homunculi will be back to finish the job."

Besides, considering that Mustang was a State Alchemist, he was a prime candidate for Human Sacrifices. The Order of Ouroboros would be less keen to kill him, though not so much for the subordinates whom Mustang had brought along. But Archer had heard of the Flame Alchemist and his combat skills, which assured him that the man would at least be able to protect his own men.

And now that both Central and Eastern Army were here, it became less likely for the Homunculi to attack with so many witnesses around.

But there was a problem. Two days after his confrontation with the three Homunculi in Liore, Gáe Buidhe reacted strangely. It let out pulses of golden light (which inevitably the surrounding Lioreans to prostate at him) before settling down. Then and there, Archer knew that the Homunculi had managed to find a way to bypass Gáe Buidhe's curse of mortality, though how they did that he had no idea. Since keeping the golden spear around was now pointless, he decided to dissipate it.

For now, Archer could only hope that his fight with them deter the Homunculi from coming to Liore for awhile.

Hawkeye blinked in surprise. "You're not staying?"

"No," Archer shook his head. "I have matters to do somewhere else, one of which regarding Nina Tucker. Letting her stay in Madame Christmas' club is dangerous for both her and the hostess' staffs."

"Right," Mustang sighed. "Paranoia is good. Are you planning to bring Nina Tucker along with you?"

"Yes. I have a friend who can take care of her. The Elrics will be at Central in a few days, right? I can swing by and check on them after I drop Nina off."

Mustang raised an eyebrow. "You have a friend? I thought of you as a loner of sort."

Archer shrugged, before grinning at the prospect of seeing those people again. "Friends, actually. They're a bit eccentric and rowdy, but good people nonetheless."

Nina seemed to be a quiet kid, but Archer was sure they would welcome her. Besides, he had some things to clarify, and maybe get some help to aid Liore.

"It's time for me to visit Dublith."

.

.

.

* * *

 **Before you start frothing; No, Archer did not tell Roy and Riza about his magecraft. They thought of it as a form of alchemy. Unusual, but not impossible. Well, until they see Archer's bigger toys in the future.**

 **Archer only divulged to them relevant information about Philosopher's Stone, Homunculus and Amestris being a giant transmutation circle since they're directly related to what was happening in Liore.**

 **And, hm…Who stays in Dublith again?**

 **Sorry for the cliffhanger, and see you in April!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi guys. Sorry for the long wait. Had some unexpected events going on in RL.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own FSN nor FMA. I am but a mere fish.**

 **Note: Best to read FMA manga Vol. 4 Chapter 15: Fullmetal Heart or watch FMA Brotherhood episode 9 before reading this chapter.**

* * *

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Izumi Curtis was enjoying the peaceful morning sharpening her knives when the telephone rang.

"Good morning," she said to the phone. "Curtis butchery. How may I help you?"

"Izumi," a baritone voice replied. "It's me, Archer. Do you want a kid?"

Dead silence.

"...Wait, that came out wrong."

* * *

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.

.

 **Dublith, 6 days after the end of Liore's riot**

Bido was a newbie in the gang, but he had proven himself more useful than others due to his unique chimera abilities.

Unlike many of the other chimeras in Devil's Nest, Bido wasn't a soldier. He was simply a petty thief who had the bad luck getting caught by the army when he was in Central. The experience of being a test subject was excruciating - _better to be dead than to be_ here - but he didn't expect a coward like himself to actually survive.

A lizard chimera. That was what he was now. Not exactly the coolest animal around, but perks for being a lizard were unexpectedly fantastic. Within days since the end of his experiment, he managed to escape unnoticed, scaling the walls silently as he bypassed oblivious guards.

Bido had heard whispers from the scientists of a group in Dublith filled with human chimeras, led by one of the great Homunculi, Greed. They grumbled about how unfair it was to have their chimeras stolen by the Homunculus, only to be able to do nothing about it. Greed, as the name suggests, was the most avaricious amongst the Homunculi, but he was also said to be fiercely protective of his possessions.

Bido had marks all over his body and a tail on his back, branding him as something inhuman. Coming back to society to live as a normal man was no longer possible for him. And so, Bido went to find the gang.

He was not disappointed. Devil's Nest was truly a group of chimeras, people with the same fate who gathered under the wing of the Homunculus Greed. They were brothers and sisters who understood each other, who taught Bido that being a chimera was not a curse but a blessing. Even their boss, despite claiming that they were just tools for him, was actually pretty decent.

Bido, who was once a street urchin, was now treated as a proper human being despite his physical transformations—and he swore to pay back their kindness by being useful to them, especially to his new boss. He decided to make use of his adhesive toe pads to silently crawl up the walls, mimicking house lizards to spy on people and passing precious information to his boss.

However, Bido was still new to the gang, and there was one order from Greed which troubled him.

" _If you see an Ishvalan with grey eyes here in Dublith,"_ his boss had said to him, his expression solemn for once and his eyes gleaming red. _"You must tell me as soon as possible."_

The lizard-man had heard of that Ishvalan, of course, even before he'd joined Devil's Nest. The last he heard, the Ishvalan Saint drove an evil beast away with a holy flower and a mighty spear. Many claimed him the champion of the divines, the hero who protected the people from monsters—and that rumour truly scared Bido, because chimeras qualified as _monsters_ in the eyes of normal people.

And, just five minutes ago, Bido saw _him_ at Dublith Station.

Panting raggedly, the lizard-man jumped from rooftop to rooftop in panic, making a beeline for Devil's Nest. That Ishvalan was here in Dublith, in his home, _their_ home - and his brain wouldn't stop conjuring horrid imaginations of his friends dying at the hands of the Ishvalan Saint.

"Boss! Boss!" Bido wailed, surprising his friends by his sudden, loud arrival. He went straight to the dining hall where Greed was lounging and fell to his knees right in front of his boss. "T-that Ishvalan...He's here!"

Greed froze, and so did many of the chimeras upon hearing the news. Bido rubbed his clammy hands together, breaking into a sweat as he trembled in fear and anticipation, waiting for Greed's next order.

Bido didn't expect his boss to crack a grin, though, nor did he expect him to say, "Let's go, guys. Time to eat."

* * *

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Saber quickly hid behind Archer when the door opened to reveal a giant.

"Hmm?" the giant rumbled, scaring Saber even further with his deep, gruff voice. Archer remained calm and steady though, allowing Saber to use him as a shield as the giant glared at her guardian. After a few seconds of staring match, the giant finally huffed and patted Archer on the shoulder.

"It's been a while, Archer," the giant said, to which her guardian nodded in return. "Who is this?"

In response, Archer gently nudged Saber. The little girl hesitantly revealed herself, right hand still clenching on Archer's coat tightly while her left hugging her plushie as she shyly looked up at the giant.

"This is the kid who I was talking about, Sig," Archer said. "Is Izumi around?"

The giant, Mr. Sig, opened the door wider, gesturing for them to follow him. Before Archer could even set foot in, however, he was suddenly kicked in the face, causing Saber to jump in surprise as the white-haired man fell to the ground.

"W-What was that for?!" Archer spluttered. Saber had never seen the man lose his composure until now.

"I want to beat you up some more, but there's a child here," said the lady who had just kicked someone out of the blue. Saber was expecting a scary face, but when the lady turned to her, her face was smiling pleasantly instead. "Hello there! What's your name?"

Her smile made the little girl relax a bit. "S-Saber."

The lady froze, before slowly asking, "Is that your real name?"

Saber shook her head. "Archer said it's dangerous to know my real name, so he calls me Saber instead."

"Is that so?" The lady whirled around to cuff Archer, making him yelp for the second time.

"Ow! What again?"

"You named her Saber? Your name is already 'Archer', for goodness' sake! If you find another child, I bet you'll name them 'Lancer' or 'Poker' or something."

Archer grumbled petulantly in response. The lady ignored him; instead, she turned back to Saber and smiled gently, "Nice to meet you, Saber. I'm Izumi—"

"Ishvalan Saint~!"

A new voice suddenly interrupted her, making Saber jump again in surprise. There, standing across the street, were a group of scary people. Things had escalated so quickly and they hadn't even entered the butcher shop properly.

A vein popped on Ms. Izumi's forehead.

"Excuse you, gentlemen. Please don't interrupt me or I'll bash your skulls," Ms. Izumi smiled as she cracked her knuckles.

A man wearing round sunglasses stepped forward from the crowd, cracking his neck as he idly replied, "Eh, I don't mind. I don't care much about a hag anyway; I'm here for _Mr_. Saint—"

A foot landed on the man's face.

"Oh? I'm a hag, is it? Wanna try getting smacked again, Greed?" _Smack_.

"Ack! Gerroff me, woman!" _Bam. Thud._

"Honey." _Whack_. "Don't push yourself too hard."

"Don't worry, dear—"

 _Cough_.

"AAAHHH! Gross! Don't vomit blood all over me!"

"Boss!"

"Shut up!"

Saber stared at the rowdy group in bewilderment. She tugged on Archer's coat before asking, "Who are they?"

Archer grinned at her in return.

"They'll be your family."

* * *

.

.

.

Bido couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The Ishvalan Saint, holy champion of the gods, slayer of monsters and protector of the people…

...Was wearing a pink frilly apron.

"Alright," the... _chef?_ spun around to face the crowd with a spatula in his hand. "Who wants first?"

A chorus of "Me, me, me!" echoed throughout the dining hall of Devil's Nest. All of his chimera friends shouted themselves hoarse to claim first dibs on the meat the Ishvalan Saint was cooking (except for Roa. The cow-chimera was a vegetarian). Bido had never seen them losing themselves over food like this.

Suddenly, a loud bang interrupted the chaos. The rabid chimeras fell silent when their boss stood up, his palms flat on the dining table.

"You lot," Greed growled. "Remember your place. Who is the boss here?"

The chimeras grumbled.

"That's right," the Homunculus lifted his left hand to reveal the tattoo of Ouroboros, before pointing at himself. "It is I, Greed, the greediest out of y'all! And I want everything in the world! I want money! Fame! Women—"

"And my cooking," the Ishvalan Saint interjected.

"—And your cooking! Therefore, I should have the first dibs!"

Bido was perplexed when all the other members dared to disagree with their boss. A riot broke out then and there.

"Surprised?" a feminine voice startled Bido out of his daze. He whirled around to see Izumi Curtis, the scary lady who'd beaten up his boss, with a bowl of something on her hands. Bido had only seen her a handful of times in the town, and he had thought the Curtis' were just ordinary people who owned a butcher shop. He'd joined Dolcetto to buy meat from them a couple of times before and sure, they were unnaturally friendly towards them, but Bido had expected nothing more than that. "You must be new. It was also like this last year when Archer was still around."

"H-he was here before?" Bido stared at the ensuing riot in front of him, all trying to get their hands on the pan-seared steak made by the Ishvalan Saint. For the slayer of monsters to mingle among chimeras…Today had gotten weirder and weirder.

Izumi nodded, a fond smile blooming on her face.

"He already knew Greed even before I first met him," she said. "Archer visited us a lot to get meat since you folks love meat more than normal people. Well, except for Roa."

She placed the bowl she'd been holding on in front of Roa, who was seated beside Bido. "Here you go. Archer made that. Vegetarian."

Without further ado, Roa demolished the food in front of him. Bido hated veggies, but watching the usually calm cow chimera devour his vegetarian meal made him drool.

Izumi must've noticed, because she gestured to her giant of a husband. Unnoticed by the rabid crowd who were busy flocking around the Ishvalan chef, Sig placed a plate of the same steak in front of Bido.

"Archer has noticed that you're new, so he made this for you as a welcoming gift or something. Don't let the rest steal it from you."

When the steak touched his tongue, Bido swore then and there that he'd found a new god in the form of the Ishvalan Saint.

* * *

.

.

.

"What's up with that kid of yours?"

Archer looked behind to see Greed strolling towards him with a bottle of alcohol in hand.

"You mean Saber?" the white-haired man asked as he looked back up to the night sky. "She isn't my kid. I found her in East City."

Greed plopped down beside him, feet dangling off the edge of Devil's Nest building. "Whatever. Your naming skill sucks, by the way."

"Says someone whose name is Greed."

"Heh. At least it defines me. I laughed my ass off when I heard of your new moniker," the Homunculus snickered. "'Ishvalan Saint,' hah!"

Archer twitched in irritation. "Honestly, that name sounds stupid."

"Exactly," Greed chortled. He chugged his drink and sighed out loud, before joining the chef on staring at the stars. "Anyway, Dolcetto said your kid faintly smells like a dog."

"That's because she was a dog chimera," Archer said with a touch of sadness in his voice. He was silent for a few moments before continuing. "Saber...Nina wasn't as lucky as Dolcetto. When I first found her, she was almost fully a dog, only that it could talk a bit. Her father transmuted her with her dog so that he could create a beast who can understand human speech."

The Homunculus stared at the man beside him before he blurted out, "You're a lot more emotional than when the first time we met."

Archer blinked at him. "I do?"

Greed shrugged. If he was to be honest, their first meeting was pretty unnerving. Archer's grey eyes had been cold and empty unlike now.

"How was your trip? I heard you traveled around Amestris."

"It was...fulfilling, I guess."

Greed hummed, wondering if that was the reason why the man seemed to be much more alive than the last time he was here.

"Met any woman?"

Archer snorted. "I met women, yes, but none like what you think."

"Che, boring."

"Oh, there's one," Archer said after a moment of thinking. Greed perked up at that. "There's this busty woman with wavy dark hair—"

"Shoulda bring her here—"

"—And an Ouroboros tattoo on her chest."

"Eww, nevermind," Greed's face immediately scrunched up in disgust. "You've met Lust? I thought you only met Envy in Liara."

"It's Liore," Archer corrected. Greed just waved dismissively. "She was there too, and so were Gluttony and Pride."

"What?" The Homunculus was shocked. Lust and Gluttony were always teamed up and Envy sometimes joined in, but big bro _Pride_? "There was a family reunion and I wasn't invited!"

Archer rolled his eyes. "Pride was there so Sloth must've finished digging in Liore some time ago. And don't worry. Wrath was in Central, so you're not the only one who didn't get the invitation."

"Wrath?" Greed frowned quizzically. The last time he heard before he cut ties with his father a century ago, there were only six Homunculus. Judging by the name, it must be a new sibling. "Since when is he around? Or is it a she? Lust is sexy as hell but her nails kinda turned me off, so another cute sister would be great."

"It's King Bradley."

Greed choked on his drink.

"Isn't that the Führer?!" he coughed. "I want a younger sister, not an old man!"

Archer gave him a bland look.

"I'm serious," Greed grumbled. He really _did_ want a little sister. "Anyway, that's quite a bold claim. How do you know it's him?"

"Someone had a suspicion and told me about it," Archer admitted. "I decided to check it out and, well, he was right."

"Details, please," Greed pushed on, still unconvinced. "You can't possibly do a full body search on him just to find an Ouroboros tattoo." Because that would be impossible and, not to mention, plain disturbing.

Archer shrugged. "I have my ways."

"Was it like what you did last year?"

He paused. "What do you mean?"

"Y'know," Greed willed his Ultimate Shield to cover his right arm, before clenching his fist. "Last year, when you appeared in front of me. Your weird-ass swords cut through my defense like a fucking hot knife through butter. Even Lust's nails couldn't leave a scratch and she's got Ultimate Spear. But yours did."

"I didn't cut up Bradley, if that's what you're implying."

"But you _did_ cut me up right after you appeared without warning," Greed said frankly. "Can you imagine how fucking creepy it was? One moment I was alone drinking beer, the next you appeared out of thin air. A second later, you mutilated me. You were really fucked up back then."

Archer scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Well, you could say I was too used to the old system of my job that I did it without thinking."

"Appear out of thin air, cut people up then job's done?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Greed stared at him in disbelief. What kind of a screwed up job is that?

"...Right. I'll ask you the details later. So why did you want to kill me?"

"Because you're a Homunculus?"

"And how did you know _that_? You didn't even know what an Ishvalan is!"

Archer opened his mouth, before closing it again. He was silent for a few moments, until he finally let out a long sigh.

"You're such a busybody, you know that?"

The Homunculus grinned widely. "What can I say? I am Greed the Avaricious, and I want everything in the world, including information. Now, spill."

"It's complicated."

"Oh, come on! Let me ask you a different question. Why did you only stop killing me after my henchmen appeared?"

"...'Cause I didn't want to kill innocent people."

"And so it was perfectly fine to kill me, what, _thrice_?"

Archer's ears turned red. "You kept coming back to life."

"Well duh," Greed deadpanned. "But that can't be the only reason why you stopped killing me."

Hey, getting mutilated _three_ goddamn times hurts like hell, so pardon him for being such a busybody.

"Fine," Archer finally gave in, irritated by the intense interrogation. "It's not like I'm hiding my abilities, anyway. It's because of Dolcetto's sword."

Out of all reasons Greed could think of, that wasn't what he'd expected.

"I can read the history of any sword," Archer said with a straight face. "I was made aware of part of your history from Dolcetto's katana. You're a Homunculus and thus my target, but you're surprisingly caring towards your supposed 'pawns' to the point you've earned their honest loyalty. Then, I realised that I had more autonomy here than where I came from, so I decided to stop killing you and find out more about the world."

There was a moment of silence, before Greed burst out laughing.

"Nice try, Archy! But you gotta put a lot more effort into your storytelling!" he managed to blurt out amidst chortling.

Archer sighed. "I've told you, it's complicated."

"Speaking of which, I want your weird-ass swords."

"Sorry, they're not for sale."

* * *

.

.

.

 **The next day, Curtis residence.**

"You look more lively now than before."

Archer paused, mulling over her words before shrugging. "I guess I do. Greed said the same thing."

Izumi sipped her tea, hiding a knowing smile behind her cup.

"Met any woman?" Archer groaned when he heard the question. Izumi ignored it and just pushed on, "Or maybe any man?"

"No, no, nothing like that," he waved his hand in an attempt to dismiss the question. "I'm not interested in any romantic relationship right now. How did you two even ask me the same question?"

Izumi straightened, her knowing smile now transforming into a smug smile. "I don't know about Greed, but falling in love can make you feel more alive. Why, when I first met my husband—"

"You collided with Sig, dropped your bear, he returned it to you and you fell in love," Archer rubbed his face in exasperation. "Yes, I've heard that story a thousand times already, Izumi."

Izumi pouted. Her love story was one of a kind, alright? But she digressed.

"What about that girl in East City? Vanessa?"

Archer, to his benefit, didn't choke on his tea. He finished it calmly before asking, "How did you know about her?"

"I redialed," Izumi smiled once more. A demon or something must've appeared behind her, because despite his previous calm, Archer began to back away in his seat. "Imagine my surprise when I realised you stayed in a brothel with an innocent little girl."

"...So that was why you kicked me in the face," the Ishvalan raised his hands in surrender. "Believe me, they're good people. They didn't taint Saber or anything, I swear."

"Vanessa told me you're her man."

"She's just an acquaintance. Nothing more than that."

"She called me 'hag'."

"How's that my fault?!"

Izumi glowered at him, making the tall man shrank back even further. Desperate to escape (perfectly justified) punishment, Archer finally blurted out, "I'm sorry!"

"Go easy on him, honey," Sig appeared from the hallway, holding hands with little Saber. They must've had a good time exploring the town, since the little girl was now much more comfortable with the big man than this morning. "Saber is a very sweet girl, so I'm sure she has had no bad experience while being there."

Said sweet girl nodded in confirmation. "Aunty Christmas gave me Roy." She waved her pony plushie as an emphasis.

Faced with the double-team, Izumi finally relented. "Alright. You're lucky she's a good girl and not as handful as my students."

"Students?" Archer frowned in confusion. "Since when you have students?"

Izumi raised an eyebrow. "Didn't I tell you? I must've forgotten."

"They were kids from Resembool," Sig said as he joined the table, leaving Nina to go outside and play with neighbouring kids. "They asked to become Izumi's apprentices. Those kids were quite gifted, so Izumi decided to accept them."

"They were a handful, but they were also diligent," Izumi sighed in reminiscence. Archer leaned forward in interest. "Why, when I left them alone on an island with nothing but the clothes on their back and a knife for thirty days—"

"Wait _what_."

"—they managed to survive, and understand my motto in alchemy by the end of it." Damn, she was so proud of those brats. "Even Ed had the gall to say, 'One is Me'!"

"...Ed?" Archer blinked at her. "Wait, what are their names?"

"Edward and Alphonse Elric," Sig said. "They're brothers."

"Huh," the Ishvalan's eyes widened. "Amestris is truly small."

"You know them?" Izumi asked, surprised. Maybe Archer visited Resembool once and met them there.

"Saw them in East City. One's short and blond while the other wears armour, right?"

"What? Armour?" Since when did those brats wear armour? Maybe it was Ed; he's got a weird taste, after all.

"Alphonse does," Archer scratched his chin. "At first, I thought he's Edward Elric. Apparently, he's called Fullmetal Alchemist for his automail. I'm surprised you don't know—"

"Fullmetal?" Izumi whispered, before slamming her palm onto the table as she stood up, startling both Archer and Sig. "You said Ed is Fullmetal Alchemist?! That means he's a State Alchemist! A military dog! The nerve of those—"

A violent cough suddenly wracked her body, interrupting her as blood dribbled from her mouth. The pain reminded her of her mistake, the Gate, _Truth—_

"'His automail'…," she croaked, fighting back the bile that was rising up her throat. "What—What do you mean by that?"

"Honey—"

"No, dear. I have to hear this," Izumi soldiered on. "Ed was a healthy boy the last time he was here. Him having an automail means that he's lost a limb."

"It was his right arm," Archer confirmed.

Izumi was silent for a few moments, her mind churning with possibilities as to how did her moronic student lost his arm. Accident? Someone did it to him? Or…

"What about Alphonse?" Sig asked in turn. "You said something about his armour."

"Uh, he wore full body armour—"

"Did you see him?" Izumi once again interjected, leaning forward to look at Archer in the eye despite the resulting pain in her stomach. "Did you see Al without his armour?"

Because by now, Ed should be 16 years old while Al a year younger. What 15 years old teen wears a full body armour? It was also _Alphonse_ they were talking about; the soft, meek kid who sometimes still followed his brother around. And why would he even need to wear armour?

 _Why does Ed have an automail? Why is Al wearing armour? Why become a military dog? Why left Resembool? Why?_

Her students were geniuses, so it wasn't far-fetched that they could...But she'd warned them…

A loud sigh broke her out of her musing. Archer leaned back in his chair as Sig helped her to get seated.

"Fine," he said. "It's time to tell you the truth, anyway."

.

.

.

* * *

 **Central City**

Ed looked down from the hospital's roof and thought how tiny people are compared to the world.

 _'One is all, and All is one'_. That was Teacher's motto, a phrase she'd believed to be the key to the meaning of alchemy. _One_ seemingly insignificant individual has a role in shaping and maintaining the world, thus part of _all_. One's death— _Deconstruction_ —gives life to a new one— _Reconstruction_. And to be a true alchemist, one must understand this unseen flow that drives the universe.

Ed remembered the joy of finding out the answer to 'One is all, All is one,' of realising that a child like him was part of the greater things and could play a role in it. Accepting the flow, understanding it and using it to _create_ —That is what makes an alchemist _an alchemist_. And that was _his_ role in the world.

But the world extends far beyond the world they all know. Humans like him would never understand the extent of it. Death and _new_ life are all part of that great harmonious system, and the life who had died must never be brought back to life _again_. That was against the flow, thus against the world.

Bringing the dead back to life was forbidden. It was the first and most important rule every alchemist should heed. But they— _He_ —foolishly ignored it, desperate to see their mother— _her smiles_ —again. And they had to pay the price for it.

 _"I never asked for this body!"_

But why must Al suffer like this?

Ed looked down at his automail leg. His price for his foolishness was so cheap in comparison to his brother's. Al was stuck in his metal body, couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't feel pain...All his brother had ever wanted was to just feel their mother's warmth again—and Ed, selfish as he was, stole all those away by using his own brother and asking him to perform the forbidden act _together_.

And he felt sick for being grateful that his little brother had not died in the process, but only _taken_ away from him—because Ed could still bring back his brother's soul to accompany him.

 _"Well, brother? Can you_ prove _that a person named Alphonse Elric really existed?!"_

 _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for making you think like that, for you to doubt your own existence, for giving you that body in the first place, I'm so sorry don't hate me so please…please bear with me a little bit more so I can turn you back to normal as soon as possible_ —

 _"The main ingredient for the Philosopher's Stone is a living human being."_

And his hope had crumbled to dust, just like that.

One's death gives life to another. One, _many_ , human beings have to die for the Philosopher's Stone to be created; and to give Al's body back, to breathe life within him once more—

He can't. Ed could never weigh the lives of human beings like that. They, who are the Ones, are also part of All, and Ed refused to imagine the people whose lives he would have to use in order to return her brother to normal.

Ed looked down and down and down, past his automail leg, to the ground seven stories under him. People looked so tiny from here. It was as if he was the world, looking at insignificant things going on under him. To accept the flow is to live, but Ed often wondered—

 _"Mom and Dad were killed in Ishval!"_

 _"I've been to your house! What the hell did you do?! What did you create?!"_

" _Hahaha! You and I are just the same!"_

 _"By God's decree, he deserves to die."_

 _"After you exposed Cornello's conspiracy, Liore went into a state of chaos."_

 _"After this child came crawling in here covered in blood, do you know what I did? I went to their house and buried that_ thing _in their backyard!"_

—How does death feel like?

.

.

.

 _"Brother!"_

Al's voice snapped him out of his trance. Ed staggered, all of a sudden feeling confused and disoriented as to how did he end up here, fence transmuted, his automail foot dangerously close to the roof's edge—

The familiar sound of metal steps jolted him, prompting him to scramble backward, away from...from…

A clap, and then the fence was back to normal seconds before Al's metal body appeared from the roof's door.

"Brother…"

Still staring at the sky, Al's voice grounded him back. That's right, Al is still here, still with him, still _alive_. Ed had vowed to return their body back to normal, and he can't just—

 _"Give him back! He's the only family I have!"_

He can't let Al experience _that_ too.

Squashing his _shameshameshame,_ he turned around to face his brother.

"My body feels kinda out of shape," he smiled. "Let's have a spar, Al."

.

.

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* * *

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.

.

 **Omake**

A ridiculous thought struck him.

'I keep getting surrounded by 'dogs' these days,' Archer mused.

Dolcetto, one of Greed's friends ("I'm telling you they're just my pawns, dammit.") was a dog chimera. He had all those typical dogs traits, such as agility and loyalty. Apparently, lifting his leg up while pissing as well, though Archer wasn't sure if this is true.

Then, there's Saber/Nina, an unfortunate soul whose father had mixed her with her dog using alchemy, turning her into a bizarre dog-like creature. The thought of someone, a father, daring to use his own child to further his studies was oh so familiar, but by now Archer just felt numb all over after witnessing such atrocities for countless of times before. At the very least, she was no longer a dog chimera now.

There was also the term 'military dog' he'd kept hearing around the army, especially on how the State Alchemists were Amestris' top dogs.

Oh wait, let's not forget Archer himself. He was a Counter Guardian, practically Alaya's dog who couldn't escape the orders of his own Master—

Ah, right. Rin was once his Master as well, wasn't she? So does that mean he was Rin's 'dog' too?

Great, now he was reminded of a certain blue-clad Hound of Ulster.

Dog, dog, dog everywhere. What next? A dog with an automail? A glutton, monster dog who wants to keep him as a slave? Why couldn't he be surrounded by more cats? At least, Saber had a good sense to buy a lion plushie and not a dog.

(Apparently, Archer was a cat person.)

* * *

 **Thanks for reading.**

 **On another note, I'm thinking of putting Finally, a Vacation! up for adoption. It's a one-shot for now, yes, but a lot of people have been asking me to continue it. It's just that I can't afford to have another fic to focus on now. What do you think?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! At last, a new chapter!**

 **Thanks for all the favs, follows and reviews! Glad you guys like the last chapter, especially on Archer being a cat person.**

 **I saw a fanart of Greed in Proto Cu's body on Pinterest. It fits, since Ling is like Proto Cu's Xingese version. This makes everything funny because Greed and Archer are more or less friends here. Whatever happened to your eternal rivalry?**

 **Enough babbling; enjoy the chapter!**

 **Disclaimer** **: I do not own FSN nor FMA.**

 **Note** **: Best to read FMA chapter 13-15 for a little bit of background context.**

* * *

 **.**

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 **.**

 **Central City**

"My daughter is going to be three years old!"

"...Lieutenant Colonel Hughes," the voice on the other side deadpanned. "I am busy at work _now_."

"Fancy that. I'm busy at work too," Maes brushed off his friend's complaint easily. He was currently at Central military telephone booth, spending his long break telling Roy the great news (he had Sheska to thank for that). Twirling the landline cord idly, he squealed, "It's just that she's sooo cute!"

"I get it, I get it. Ugh," Maes could totally imagine Roy pinching the bridge of his nose when he said that. "Don't call me all the time only to brag about your daughter! And not with a military line!"

"Not just my daughter. I'm proud of my wife too!"

"I wonder if there's a way to fry a person over the phone with alchemy, Hughes..."

"Ooh, the Flame Alchemist is scaring me," Maes laughed at Roy's sullen tone. That man should really get married and have children, like him. Then, he'd understand the joy of life!

But that was not the only reason why Maes called. He sighed, smile disappearing as he turned to a more serious topic. "Speaking of alchemy, there was a very big explosion in the Baker Street yesterday, near your old office in the East City. The local investigators found Scar's torn and bloody jacket there."

"So I've heard," Roy hummed. "If I was there, I would've caught Scar myself. Too bad I'm stuck in Liore for now. He's dead, then?"

"That's the general consensus," Maes recalled what he could from the report. "There are many unidentifiable bodies found and he might be among those. No witness reports of him loitering around the area so far, but I suspect he was hiding in the sewer when the explosion happened. I've been assigned to take over the case, so I'll find out more when I reach there three days from now."

"You're coming to East City?" Roy asked, surprised.

"I know right?!" Maes groaned in despair. "I don't want to leave my wife and daughter! Hell, I almost miss Elicia's birthday! Luckily I managed to black—I mean, _talk_ the top brass round to let me join her birthday tomorrow. She's going to be three tomorrow, can you believe that?!"

"That's not the point, Hughes," Roy sighed. Maes was about to curse at him—because leaving his family in Central only to meet rubble and dead bodies was a _serious_ concern, damn it—when his friend continued, "You're one of Amestris' top investigators. Scar has been killing high-ranking individuals in charge of the State Alchemists. You said that he's declared dead from the explosion, but you're called from Central to investigate the incident in East City."

Maes would've preened at his compliment if not for the suspicious order. "I've noticed. An explosion that big should've left nothing behind, but it seems that Führer is not convinced that Scar's dead. He didn't even approve the request to cut loose the Elric brothers' guards even though they were in Central. Why he's adamant about it, I have no idea."

Maes waited for Roy to reply, but there was only silence from the other end. "Roy?"

"The Führer…," Roy mumbled. He tapped his phone idly. "Anyway, Scar is certainly like a cockroach if he's still alive after all that. Troublesome too. I heard Tucker's daughter is still missing."

Maes leaned against the booth table and made himself comfortable, seemingly ready to start another gossip session. But his focus sharpened, ears ready to listen to every single word Roy was about to say. He hummed and tapped his phone three times, before saying. "I'll start to investigate that too, since it's closely linked to Scar's case."

"Man, how am I going to outrank Olivier at this rate?" Roy grumbled. "She even got a new talented guy, recently! A technician named Neil, if I'm not wrong."

"Don't be so greedy, Roy. You yourself have Master Sergeant Fuery."

"Yeah, and Edward too. Maybe my luck has finally run out. Speaking of which, Hawkeye just got a new dog…"

Their conversation continued in such a manner for another twenty minutes. Maes thanked his lucky stars that he had an excellent memory, because Roy's coded message was exhausting to remember. It would also be suspicious if he came out of the telephone booth with a piece of paper listing people's names. He had no choice but to write those down later.

"...So, the Elric brothers are in Central?" Roy finally asked after tapping his phone twice, indicating the end of his secret message. Maes almost slumped in relief. The way Roy generated names so quickly and fit them seamlessly into normal sentences baffled him. Hell, Roy even managed to briefly inform him about the current situation in Liore while disguising sensitive intel.

Instead, he focused on his friend's question and smiled knowingly. Roy and Ed were like cats and dogs who'd never get along, and Roy kept saying that the boy was merely a stepping stone for him to rise through the ranks. Maes knew deep down that Roy worried about the brothers. Granted, Ed and Al were always gone on dangerous adventures in pursuit of the Philosopher's Stone. Just like last week.

"Yeah, about that. Ed's in the hospital now…"

* * *

.

.

.

"...And after I was kicked by this lady, I don't remember anything else."

Maes almost didn't catch what Ed was saying. "And she has sharp nails that could elongate up to two meters long?"

"Yeah," Ed brushed his non-automail palm over the bandaged wound in his shoulder and shivered. "It was creepy. She's definitely strong enough to kill me with those nails. For some reason, she let me live, even went as far as carrying me outside the collapsing building."

"Because we're 'human sacrifices', she said," Al chipped in. "We're still not sure what that means, but at least it worked to our advantage back then."

Maes narrowed his eyes, mind whirling with information from both the Elric's report of the Research Laboratory 5 incident and Roy's coded message. Al had drawn a sketch of the aforementioned lady (which, Maes honestly thought, was a lot more human-like than Ed's sinister one) with an Ouroboros tattoo on her chest.

"We don't know who she is," Ed fisted his blanket. "Those nails...It might be some kind of an alchemy, but I swear those were her real fingertips, not some sort of device like my automail."

Armstrong gasped. "But that would mean she transmuted her own body! How did she not get a rebound?"

"Perhaps, she was using the Philosopher's Stone?" Al suggested. "Brother said she mentioned about the lab being used to create the stone in the past."

"If that's the case, then she did a damn good job hiding the stone while fighting me," Ed grumbled. "Transmuting body parts without necessary materials nor a circle…Who is she?"

"A homunculus."

All eyes turned to the only non-Alchemist in the room. Maes picked up the sketch of the Ouroboros symbol and pointed at it.

"Homunculus," he said in a low tone. "An artificial human being, identified by the Ouroboros tattoo on their body. They're immortal, powerful and absolutely dangerous," Maes turned to the shocked boy. "You're lucky to be alive, Ed."

"I-Immortal?!" Al gasped.

"How do you know that, sir?" Armstrong frowned, clearly disturbed.

"Roy told me," Maes sighed. He would've never expected the secret message to contain such outrageous information. In the span of twenty minutes of disguised conversation, the Flame Alchemist had told him about the Philosopher's Stone and its secret ingredient, the Homunculus, the Nationwide Transmutation Circle and the military's involvement in this. Backed by Ed and Al's account on Doctor Marcoh's research as well as the appearance of the lady with an Ouroboros tattoo, Roy's intel seemed all the more legitimate.

"Colonel Mustang?" Ed's eyes were wide with surprise. "And how did he know all those things? I haven't even told him anything about the Philosopher's Stone!"

"The Homunculi were sighted in Liore during the riot. Yes, it's plural. There were three in total," Maes nodded. Ed hissed at that. "They were said to be involved in the creation of Philosopher's Stones, although whether the information is accurate is up to debate." Roy had heard it from the Ishvalan Saint, after all.

The three alchemists in the room were stunned into silence. Armstrong clenched his fists before whispering, "Doctor Marcoh...his researched mentioned that at least five completed Philosopher's Stones were produced during the Ishvalan Civil War, which required more than fifty living humans to create just one. Then, you're saying that three Homunculi were allegedly involved in the creation of the Philosopher's Stones." He rubbed his face in frustration. "Nothing makes sense. Are you telling me that the Ishvalan War—"

"Sorry for intruding."

The four occupants of the room jumped when there was a knock from outside. The door opened to reveal—

"F-Führer President King Bradley!"

Maes and Armstrong immediately saluted. Bradley waved them off with a laugh, "Quiet down, soldiers. You can be at ease."

"Y-yes sir," Armstrong scratched his head and relaxed slightly. Maes had to force himself to relax, because it was _King Bradley_.

King Bradley. Who Roy had claimed was a Homunculus.

Maes could see no Ouroboros tattoos on his exposed skin. Nor could he remember Bradley performing any alchemy. But he could not dismiss his friend's warning just like that. After all, if the entire country was designed in the shape of a giant Transmutation Circle, then there was simply no way the government was not involved in any of it.

"Your Excellency," Maes hid his uneasiness behind abashed expression. "May I ask why you are here?"

"Why, to drop off a get-well present for Major Elric," Bradley passed a basket of...of melon to Ed. "You like melons, don't you?"

"Ah, yes, thank you—Wait, _that's not the problem here_!" Ed wailed.

The Führer laughed, before picking up one of the scattered sketches—the Ouroboros drawing. "Hm, jokes aside. It seems like you've been doing a lot of investigating on the military leadership," Maes stiffened when Bradley looked steadily at him. "Lieutenant Colonel Hughes."

 _Shit_.

"Whatever you mean, sir?" Maes smiled innocently, hiding his internal panic. _Does the F_ _ü_ _hrer know about Roy's intel?_

"Don't underestimate my intelligence network," Bradley narrowed his eyes, before turning to Ed. "And you, Major Edward Elric...The Philosopher's Stone, right?"

The blond boy tensed up. Bradley stared him down, but he remained silent.

"Just how much did you find out? Depending on that, I may have to…"

Maes fingered his knives in his pocket, readying himself should conflict break out. It was treason to go against the Führer, but he was already knee-deep in supporting Roy's goal anyway. And if what Roy said was right, who knows what the Führer would do to keep the secret of the Philosopher's Stone project safe.

Tensions skyrocketed as seconds passed—until suddenly, the Führer laughed out loud.

"Just joking!" He patted Ed's shoulder, who gaped at him dumbly. "No need to get so tense. I, too, am aware that there have been disquieting activities within the military. I've always wanted to do something about them, but everything becomes complicated when you don't even know who to trust in the military."

Armstrong and the Elrics began to relax. Maes too, only because the conflict managed to be avoided. The Führer's warning was certainly ironic, because the three alchemists automatically deemed Bradley, potentially one of their greatest enemies, as someone trustworthy.

"The enemy is always ahead of us," Bradley continued after skimming through the scattered sketches. Maes almost snorted at that. _Of course they're ahead; we technically have to report all of our activities to him_. "Even with my intel network, I still don't know the scale of it all. Nor about their objectives or how close they are to achieving them."

 _Very close_ , Roy's message told him. _Liore was done; their next target is the north. Then, it'll be over for us._

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes. Major Armstrong. Elric brothers," the Führer's tone suggested he demanded their fullest attention. "I have decided you all are trustworthy people. Therefore, I forbid you to continue investigating this matter or disclose it to others! You cannot trust anyone in this when you cannot even distinguish friend from foe! Regard all of the military as your enemy and proceed carefully!"

And by that, he'd gained Armstrong's and the Elrics' full trust. By being the one to give out the warning, the Führer could avoid immediate suspicion. King Bradley was certainly a cunning man, a professional in hiding his true intentions behind a genial, trustworthy mask.

For that reason, Maes could not tell them the truth yet. Alex Armstrong, despite his family's social standing, was not keen to be deeply involved in military politics, nor was he brave or influential enough to oppose the Führer. Maes would've told him if it was Olivier—that woman had the backing of Fort Briggs and was ruthless enough to be a Major General by the age of thirty—but sadly, that wasn't the case.

The Elric brothers were fearless, yes, and definitely influential—Ed was called the Hero of the People because of his meddlesome trait and thus, had the backing of the common people. But the commoners were nothing against the military, especially the top echelon who had the power to dispatch armies. Besides, they were still young, no matter how much Ed had complained. Their main goal was to get their bodies back to normal, not to rise through the ranks and definitely not to involve themselves in military politics. It was naive to hold such a view, but ignorance is bliss. It would only put them in danger if they know the truth.

"Your Excellency!" A distant, frantic voice was heard through the door, breaking the Führer out of his commanding mood. "Where have you gone, Your Excellency!"

"Uh-oh, here comes my annoying subordinate," Bradley groaned, before heading to the window. He calmly opened the window, climbed it and said, "I snuck out of my office, after all."

Maes sweatdropped. Enemy or not, Amestrian officials sure loved to escape paperwork by sneaking out of the office. Including Maes himself.

"Oh, right. Before I forget," Bradley turned back one last time to smile at him knowingly. "Tell me more about the Ishvalan Saint later, will you? I heard he's quite an interesting individual; surely Colonel Mustang has told you a lot of things about him from Liore."

 _So, he at least knew about my frequent calls with Roy._ Whether he was aware of the coded message or not, Maes would have to prepare for the worst. He smiled back and said, "I'll be glad to, sir."

The Führer gave one last wave before he left. Through the window.

"What are you guys doing, standing around like that?" Winry entered the hospital room to see the four staring out of the window.

"...Let's just say a storm just passed," Ed said awkwardly.

Oh, Maes wished he could tell him that _that_ was the calm before the real storm.

* * *

.

.

.

"Pride."

There was a moment of silence. The shadows shifted to reveal an eye.

" **Wrath.** "

"Maes Hughes," Wrath said. "His calls with Roy Mustang were suspicious. He might know about things he shouldn't have."

The red eye narrowed. A jaw opened in the shadows, mouth full of sharp teeth.

" **What are you going to do about him?** " The shadow's voice echoed, as if it originated from everywhere. " **He might jeopardise our plan if we let him live**."

Wrath hummed, considering their options. "I'm more curious to find out how they know about the Homunculus. Roy Mustang was not in direct contact with our siblings in Liore."

The shadows sneered. " **It was that Ishvalan…** "

"The Ishvalan Saint?"

" **He knows about Father…** ," it hissed. Pride was supposed to be devoid of emotions, but the shifting tendrils of shadow showed its agitation clearly. " **He was in Liore when Roy Mustang came**."

"Then the question is how that Ishvalan Saint knows about us," Wrath narrowed his lone eye. "The only one who knows about Father is Van Hohenheim."

" **Hmm** ," the shadows flickered. " **And Greed**."

Wrath blinked. "Greed? I admit I have yet to meet him in person," he chuckled. "I am the youngest, after all."

" **He left Father a century ago** ," two, three, four more red eyes appeared in the shadows, glaring at nothing in contempt. " **What an ungrateful sibling. He betrayed Father for selfish reasons**."

"His whereabouts is still unknown?"

" **...There is a rumour** ," Pride hummed. " **Chimeras flocking around in Dublith. Greed was mentioned**."

Wrath grinned.

"Time for a surprise inspection in the South, then."

* * *

.

.

.

 **Dublith**

"A Homunculus…"

Greed grinned and nodded, pointing his finger at the back of his other hand where the Ouroboros tattoo was.

"That's right. And I'm Greed, the most avaricious one of all my siblings!" Then, his arm turned sleek black as he activated his ability. "Each of us has a unique ability given by our Daddy dear. Mine's called the 'Ultimate Shield'!"

Izumi hummed, poking the black arm with a kitchen knife. It didn't even leave a scratch. "Interesting. And you're saying that you have high-speed regeneration?"

"Yep," Greed returned his arm to normal and, before Izumi could react, cut off the entire limb by swinging his arm towards the blade of her kitchen knife.

Izumi slapped him so hard he fell off his chair.

"You moron! I just cleaned the floor! Now it's a mess again!"

"Ouch! Your slap fucking hurts, old hag! I think you broke my jaw!"

"You're going to heal it anyway," Archer drawled. Luckily, Nina was off playing with the other children. If she was here to witness that, who knows what would Izumi do to his friend. "Why do you have to be such a show-off? I won't help you clean the floor off the blood later."

"Ugh. Whatever," Greed wiggled his stump. A distinct crackle of alchemy filled the silence as bones and muscles began growing out of it at high speed. Not ten seconds later, a new arm replaced the stump. "There you go. But a body like this isn't immortal at all. My body structure and composition is the same as a normal human."

"You told me it's because you're essentially a Philosopher's Stone in a human form. The stone sustained your body and heal your wounds, but it isn't an inexhaustible energy source," Izumi turned to Archer. "And you said that the Stone is made of human lives."

"That is right. A homunculus may have hundreds of human souls inside their body."

"It's noisy," Greed picked his ear in annoyance. "The souls keep screaming."

"You can try to befriend them, you know," Archer pointed out. "Then maybe they'd quiet down."

"Hah! Nice joke, Archer. Try that again when you have multiple souls screaming at you in your head all the time."

"I'm not joking, Greed. Hohenheim did that to his souls."

Greed blinked in surprise. Izumi leaned forward with a smile, "So you've met him, then."

"Took me a while to find him, but yeah," Archer said. "He's been traveling around Amestris, so much so that it's hard to keep track of his movement. He even spends a lot of nights in the wilderness." Archer shook his head in exasperation. "You told me to look for him around Youswell because that's where the last time you saw him. But I found him in the jungle near Geymer, Izumi, in the West Area. Eating raw mushrooms."

Izumi sweatdropped. "Well, he did look like a homeless guy the last time I saw him. I would have never thought he was a master alchemist if I didn't see his research paper."

"Hohenheim…," Greed frowned, rubbing his chin. "I think Dad mentioned that name once or twice. Something about him having the same power as Daddy."

Izumi scrunched her nose in disgust, "Could you stop calling him ' _Daddy'_? It's disturbing."

Greed grinned mischievously, "What's wrong with that? I love my Daddy."

"Anyway, that's because they both started with the same number of souls," Archer recalled Hohenheim's story after whacking Greed in the head. "The full story is not for me to tell, but basically Hohenheim is the Order's greatest threat. He has the same potential as the Dwarf in the Flask, thus, the only one who can counter the Order's plan."

"Countering a nationwide Transmutation? That would require him to draw an equally massive Transmutation Circle!"

Archer shrugged. "That's for him to worry. He told me he had a plan, though, so there's that."

"Can't you just stop the Nationwide Transmutation Circle from being completed?" Greed pointed out. "Maybe kill Sloth, since he's the one digging the tunnel."

"It's too late to stop it. The project is already at its final stage. I can probably slow down the progress by targeting Sloth, but it won't stop the Dwarf in the Flask to continue the circle himself," Archer sighed. "Besides, I might be able to take on a Homunculus by myself, but it'll require a lot of energy from me to permanently incapacitate one. I tried that already in Liore, and it wasn't enough."

"Yeah, you have to repeatedly kill us to exhaust the Philosopher's Stone," Greed nodded in agreement. "And it's not like my siblings would stay idle while you kill them. There's also big bro Pride and his shadows to the rescue."

"Speaking of which, where is Pride's real body? It seems like his shadows could travel long distances so long as it's inside the tunnel Sloth made." Which was awfully troublesome, because, despite his repertoire of weapons, Archer had none to stop Pride's shadows, let alone kill him.

Greed, to his disappointment, shrugged helplessly. "Never met his body before, actually. Only his creepy shadows."

"You're his brother, Greed."

"So what? I'm already disowned. Besides, he wanted to eat me. What kind of brother does that?"

A Homunculus brother, apparently. Archer sighed in exasperation. At least, Ilya only wanted to kill him.

"So, what do you think, Izumi?" He turned to the alchemist in the room. "You're one of the Human Sacrifices, so you deserve to know."

"About that," Izumi narrowed her eyes on him. "How do you know I am one? I've only told you that I'm an alchemist, not about _it_."

" _It_? What's _it_?" Greed asked, confused.

"The Gate," Archer said, before tapping his nose. "I have this ability to track magical energy, including alchemy, by scent. Human Sacrifices have this distinct scent that differentiates them from a normal alchemist. It's how I tracked Hohenheim—apart from his 'Philosopher's Stone' scent—and determined the Elric brothers as Human Sacrifices."

"Don't tell me you sniffed their butts," Greed snorted. "Even Dolcetto doesn't do that."

"Shut up, Greed. No dinner for you tonight."

"What—you can't do that!"

"You're certainly one of a kind, Archer," Izumi shook her head. If they were not friends, Archer had a feeling that her tone would be a lot more aggressive. "Who are you? What's your objective from doing all this?"

Greed turned to him as well, eager to know his answer.

"I'm here to kill the Dwarf in the Flask and return its soul to the Gate," Archer said, choosing not to say that he's currently on vacation, too. "I'm essentially Truth's temporary agent in Amestris."

"...What," Izumi deadpanned.

"I'm helping Truth with his problem."

"That makes no sense. Truth is...Truth. It's the World. The Universe. The True Knowledge. _God_. No human being can interact with it directly unless if one performs Human Transmutation. Truth's agent? What even is that?"

"It's complicated," Archer said. Greed rolled his eyes at that. "I was a human, but I'm no longer one now. I am a Counter Guardian, also called the Protector of Balance, servant of Alaya, the collective unconsciousness of mankind. Long story short, I'm being loaned to Truth to deal with the Dwarf in the Flask."

He was met with silence.

"...I think you told me this joke yesterday, Archer," Greed said slowly. "It's getting old now."

Archer sighed. "It's not a joke, Greed. I'm being serious here. It's not my fault that you can't understand it."

"Prove it, then," Izumi leaned forward, challenging him. "What you said just now was plain unbelievable. You're basically saying that you're some sort of a higher being employed by...what, the collective unconsciousness of mankind? What the hell?"

Okay, he admitted it sounded ridiculous for the normal people. He never had to prove Alaya's existence nor his legitimacy as a Counter Guardian before, because most of the time, he just had to _kill_. Even during the Fifth Holy Grail War, Rin could understand his existence through the dreams without him having to say much.

Instead, he summoned one of his favourite blades, Kanshou, and presented it to them.

Izumi's eyes grew wide. "What—how did you create that out of nothing?!"

"That's my type of magecraft: Projection. It materialises objects in accordance with the caster's imagination, through the use of magical energy. I'm not from this universe, so the law of Equivalent Exchange doesn't really apply to me here."

"But you could do the same thing with Philosopher's Stone," Greed pointed out, unconvinced. "Daddy—ouch! I mean _Father_ could create objects out of thin air using alchemy."

Archer tsked in annoyance.

"Okay, what about this," he dismissed Kanshou and summoned one layer of a tiny version of Rho Aias. "This is the barrier I used in Liore. One layer of this could stand against firearm-fired projectiles—"

"Woah, is this some type of air alchemy?! Did you condense air and vaporise it to give its shape? How do you even shape it—"

"No, no, no! It's not alchemy, dammit! It's magecraft! Projection— _Don't give me that look!_ "

"Just tell me its secret, Archer. What array did you use? Is it—Wait, _don't dispel it!"_

"No! Clearly it's not working. How about this: Reinforcement. I can turn tissue paper to be as sturdy as steel—"

"Hello? Philosopher's Stone? Turn iron into gold?"

Archer wanted to tear his hair out. He glared at Greed, who laughed shamelessly at him.

"Man, that was funny," the Homunculus wiped a tear from his eyes. "Oh, tell her about that one with Dolcetto's katana. You said you can read the history of any sword."

That...was actually a good idea. He regarded Izumi's forgotten kitchen knife, considered it, and said, "You almost killed yourself with that knife."

Izumi froze, eyes wide with shock.

"It was right after you performed _that_ ," Archer continued, eyes staring straight at her. "You've lost your child, twice. The preparation was perfect, but Truth took the heaviest toll. Sig found you bleeding in this room after you attempted suicide."

The following silence was stifling. Even Greed had the sense to not make light of Archer's confession.

It was broken by the scraping sound of a chair being dragged across the floor. Izumi plopped into the chair and sighed heavily.

"...Alright, I believe you," she finally said, sounding exhausted all of sudden. "It was the darkest moment of my life. Only I and Sig know about it."

"I'm sorry. It isn't my place to disclose that," now Archer felt like the biggest jerk in the entire universe. To ease the guilt, he traced a Conceptual Weapon and gave it to her. "Here. It's for minor healing."

"Ah, thank you?" Izumi blinked at the small, ornamental dagger. She gasped when her hand touched the weapon. "Healing, you say?"

Archer nodded. "It slightly boosts self-regeneration and ease the pain. You can keep it."

"Well, why didn't you do this since the beginning?" Greed poked the dagger, wiggling his fingers at the sensation. "It's definitely easier than trying to turn tissue paper into gold."

"That's not—," Archer threw his hands up in exasperation. "You know what? Nevermind."

"Great! Now that we believe your story, Archy," Greed grinned. "What are you planning to do once everything is over? My recommendation is to be my permanent cook."

Archer blinked at the unexpected question, before shrugging, "Sorry Greed. But my soul would probably return to Alaya."

"So...what, you automatically die?" Izumi asked worriedly, to which Archer laughed.

"I'm technically already dead, Izumi. But souls could exist for eternity, and I'm just a copy of my original soul, currently living in a temporary body provided by Truth. I can't be deader than that."

Greed must've seen something in his eyes, because he frowned as Archer said that.

"Well, no use in thinking about my future demise," Archer laughed in an attempt to defuse the tension. "Anyway, I'm supposed to meet up with Hohenheim next month in the North. It's a long journey from here and I'm planning to visit Rush Valley for a couple of days, so I'll have to leave tomorrow morning. I'll be coming back here again to check on you guys once I have the time."

"What?! B-but that's like months away from now!" Greed wailed, turning back to his childish self. "I can't live without your food!"

"You've been living without his cooking for almost a century, Greed. If I didn't know better, I would've thought you are Gluttony."

"I demand meat for dinner!"

"I told you already—no dinner for you tonight."

.

.

.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **A couple of things to note:**

 **Maes should've told Ed and Al the truth!**

 **Honestly, that might not be the case here. If Ed and Al know the truth about the Fuhrer being a Homunculus, then...what can they do about it? Tell the people the truth? That would only serve to spark another civil war and they obviously don't want that. Confront the F** **ü** **hrer himself? We know what had happened from the manga/anime; Bradley was willing to threaten Winry's life to buy their silence. Of course, Maes had no idea that they'd learn about it sooner or later anyway.**

 **Will Maes die like in canon?**

 **It'll be spoilers if I tell you that. But there are certain changes from canon due to Archer's presence there. The Maes here didn't have to research and find out about the nationwide transmutation circle himself, because Roy had told him about it. Because of that, the Homunculi didn't know how much Maes knows about them.**

 **Lust is also by herself there since Envy and Gluttony were still out of commission—which means their fight with Scar had turned out differently.**

 **On another note, my new semester begins on Monday, which means no more updates till months later. Sorry about that. But don't worry, I won't abandon this fic nor the others, unless stated otherwise in my profile. Bear with me with the slow update, yeah?**

 **See you next time.**


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